The Cozy Joy of a Good Rainy Day

There is a nice steady rain outside this morning.  I really do love a good rainy day.  Even if I have a busy schedule it always reminds me to stop, sit quietly (even if only in my head) and think.  I am immediately transported to a comfy chair, surrounded by my husband and boys (when they were little), special snacks on the table in the next room, the smell of them cooking still lingers in the air.   As we hunker  down to pass a day ‘stuck’ inside there’s almost an excitement in the air, an anticipation of good times to come. We will play board games, some wrestling (definitely a special version called Run Into The Pillow), and a favorite movie to top it all off.  I can hear the laughter.  I can taste the cookies.  I am wrapped in love as the comforting feeling of ‘Home’ washes over me.  Yes...I definitely love a good rainy day.

Surprisingly, I’m glad this imagery doesn’t show itself more frequently.  It’s all the more special when it comes with an unexpected turn in the weather, a good summer rain, an unexpected snow.  The memories of these times are cherished gifts, taken down from a high shelf, dust blown off, each item cradled in hands of loving care, the infrequency of the occurance providing the more powerful reminder.  Much like my favorite frilly pink party dress when I was 5, it’s for special occasions.  Not every day.

If I allow myself I can easily slip into a place of sadness and loss, missing their noise, that constant chatter and boisterousness that surrounded my boys, kicked up like Pigpens cloud of dust every time they entered a room.  Instead, as I look out the window, I step over the mental puddles of what’s gone and go around the sticky mud patches of what could have been.  These memories, much like a rain day, are the perfect Yin Yang of life, the mess of mud and the beauty of new growth.  I dearly miss their childhood years, frequently wishing they had never ended.  My life is so much richer with the benefits of having raised them, my soul nourished forever by days gone by.  Equally, I am painfully aware that change is a part of life.  From change comes new growth, both mine and theirs.

Those cherished memories, brought on by an atmospheric change, give me comfort in who I am right now, the woman I have become in my own right, not as a mother or wife.  A woman.  Just me.  The memories bring me joy in watching what beautiful young men those rambunctious boys have become and the part I played in their journey and they in mine.  This reflection, seen through my window, brings me peace, joy and contentment as I accept that all that is my world right now is as it should be.