I love rain.
I love everything about it. Some of my favourite memories are brought rushing forward by the sounds and smells of a gray, rainy day. I was never a kid who was afraid of thunder and lighting. Quite the opposite. I remember on the farm, Granny sending my 2 brothers, 4 cousins and I outside in our underwear to play in a warm rain shower. Squiging our toes in the mud and jumping in puddles with bare feet, delirious with laughter after convincing the younger ones that it was not mud they were standing in, but quicksand.
I loved sitting at the kitchen table coloring while listening to the thunder and trying our best to draw the flashes of lightning illuminating the night. Our good ol' Rozzie-dog cowering behind Grandpa's recliner, slinking further back into the corner with every crack and shudder from outside. Even knowing why she was afraid didn't scare us any. Rozzie had once been a barn puppy, sleeping peacefully on a stormy night, when the barn she was in was struck by lightning and caught fire. She made it out but ever after that detested storms. We would cuddle and hug her trying to calm her nerves - telling her it was only God's angels bowling and that everything would be alright. How funny that must've looked! Two little blonde headed girls trying to make a 100 lb great dane/german shepard feel better.
Even as I became a teenager, rainy days never lost their appeal. For a large part of my youth I worked at a golf course in the kitchen and rainy days were usually slow. They were spent prepping but prepping doesn't require much concentration so there was lots of story telling and good natured ribbing. The people I met at that job helped shape who I am and taught me a lot. One person in particular - when we met it was like we had known each other a hundred years already. Our souls knew each other even if our faces were unfamiliar. It was not in a romantic way but in a way I can't even explain. One such memory is of us, while on a break, sitting on the freezers in the the storage room with the loading door wide open. A storm was rolling in and the poplars were swaying in the breeze. He got out his guitar, played a melody and sang a song I didn't know. He's not in this world any more and I'm so grateful that I knew him.
Time goes on and we continue to learn and grow. Sometimes too quickly, sometimes not quickly enough. It was also on a rainy night, that I fell in love. I managed to get my car stuck in the mud on the side of a country road - and had no one to call but the man I now call my husband. He came to my rescue even though I did not know what road I was on. Even though I gave him the most terrible directions on how to get to where I thought I was. He came. We left my car there and he drove me where I needed to go. All the way there we talked about our families. Competing to see whose was the most dysfunctional. I fell asleep that night listening to the rain, knowing that I loved him.
So, you see? To me a rainy day is not just the weather du jour. The feeling of the cool air on my face and the sound of pitter patter on the ground is all it takes and I am transported a million miles away to a childhood memory.
Tonight after work it will be time to create some childhood memories for Paige. It will be a puddle jumping, fun in the rain kind of evening. If I'm lucky she'll love it just as much as I do.