Today it feels like spring. I woke up to the sounds of rain tapping on my windowsill. I miss that sound. My bedroom was dark, the shades were pulled all the way down, and a dim light from the overcast sky sneaked its way in. I was tucked away under my goose down comforter thinking about similar mornings like these. Madelene would be sleeping soundly with her little satin eyeshades. I’d wake her up by tickling her nose with a light cloth or a tissue and she would think it was just an itch. She’d scratch it, wiggle her nose and then she would fall back into a deep slumber. I’d tickler her again, but this time, I’d tickle the soft part of her lips. She’d squish and rub her lips and then fall right back to sleep. I would relentlessly do this until she would wake up and laugh at me. I wanted to spend the morning with her, but at the same time, I wanted her to rest. It was a toss up. I guess the feelings of nostalgia hit me hard this morning. It was nice to hear Madelene’s voice over the phone today.
The rain also brings back memories of fear and pain. I remember when I was about ten years old, my mother was sent to the hospital. She had to have an operation. She had an infection in her blood and was close to dying. My father would bring me in to visit mom, but the nurses wouldn’t allow me in due to any risk of my mother getting sicker from the outside elements and people. My father yelled at the nurses, because he thought it would be the last time I would ever see my mother again. They looked at him in fear and let him through the doors. I had a huge lump in my throat as my mother laid there helplessly. My mom always took charge and ran things, but seeing her lay there sick and listless gave me a feeling of fear and hopelessness. I was scared. Who would take long walks with me? Who would greet me when I got off the bus? Who would clean up my wounds if I fell off my bike? Who would I go to if I was scared at night? My mother used to let me sleep with her if I got scared in the middle of the night. She’d pat the end of her bed to let me know it was okay to sleep there. She’d wrap her arms around me, as I’d fall asleep feeling safe and loved. All those things were disappearing in front of my eyes. I looked out the window and saw the rain pour against the pane.
Pain. That’s what I felt.
Happiness…hearing the doctor tell us she was going to be alright.
Rain triggers memories of mine, whether they’re good or negative. When I was working for this cheese factory nearby, it was pouring out. The company had a problem with their nitrogen tanks and had to let people go home until it was resolved. I remember I had a horrible headache and couldn’t drive. It was Madelene’s day off. She came to pick me up and we headed over to this little art village to grab some coffee. I recall drops of rain splashing into large puddles, creating round circles everywhere on the pavement. We ran through all of them and found a little nook at the corner of the street to take cover. We both enjoyed our gourmet hazelnut coffees from a café across the street and talked for a long time. I remember wind chimes blowing in the breeze. The music coming from them was so comforting. Random days like these are what I treasure and miss the most.
When a storm hits in the summer over here, it’s the most beautiful sight. The lightening show it provides is simply amazing, along with the sounds of crashing thunder always makes me feel excited and warm at the same time.
Whenever my mother and I say ‘it’s a beautiful day’, we laugh, because we feel like the only people who think dreary and rainy days are gorgeous. She said, “We sound like the Adam’s Family!”
I’m not sure what it is about the rain that makes me feel so alive, but I’m not going to complain about it.
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