It’s the Friday of Memorial Day weekend and it’s raining right down.
When I lived in a house that was 117 years old (that was nearly 20 years ago, too) I used to hate the rain because I could hear it running inside the walls and see it when it soaked through the plaster of the ceilings. There was a musty smell that was pervasive when it rained, especially if it got hot right afterwards.
Now that I live in a newer house with a solid roof I love the rain. It gives me the perfect excuse to be physically lazy and immerse myself in my thoughts. So really, it’s the perfect start to this holiday weekend.
As everyone ages, the losses pile up around us. They hurt in different ways and on different levels. Some…grandparents, parents, special uncles and aunts (even if they aren’t related)…leave big holes in our hearts, cause a deep sadness that mellows with age, and can even turn into positive feelings of angels surrounding us with love and protective care.
Others…the ones that pass away around our own age…bring another kind of sadness and can strike fear into our hearts. If that can happen to him/her, can I be next?
Then there are the ones that are younger that us, maybe siblings or, heaven forbid, sons or daughters. Because I haven’t experienced this I can only imagine the deep sadness this must bring.
And since all these feelings, for me, are predicated on relative differences in age, they change as I age.
I’m glad I have this time every year to remember the people that mattered (and continue to matter) that have passed before me. I sit and stare into the green growth and life giving rain and relive the best memories.
