Husband unexpectedly came home after PT today to make his lunch and give me a kiss. While he was here he told me that there was a “rain storm warning” in Seattle and we might get to see some of the action.
And I wished for it. Oh did I wish for it.
Back in Illinois I found great catharsis in Thunderstorms. The feeling in the air would change… The ions would find themselves out of balance and the little hairs on my arms and the back of my neck would stand up just a little… Then the first slow, big drops would come down with some thunder…. In a few minutes it would be totally on top of us with the rain pounding down–cascading in big sheets of water. The lightning would flash and the thunder would crash and I’d stand at the window, or inside the door, or sometimes right outside and I would feel it. I would feel the storm beating down on the earth and it would release something inside of me… The spun up anger, the ball of nerves I carry around many days over both the trivial and the catastrophic things of life, the pain and tension I hide behind my shoulder-blades–Somehow the storm took all the hard stuff that I struggle so much to get out of me, and pounded it into the ground with the rain.
So here I am in the Northwest… Close enough to Seattle that the first thing we are asked when people find out where we live is, “Oh but it rains all the time there, right?” (It doesn’t). We’re in the rainy season. But the thing is… Rain here is altogether different than rain in Illinois. Rain here looks a lot like a fine mist. A really good rain looks like an Illinois sprinkle intensity with a lot more water coming down at once. There are no thunderstorms. And these “Rain storms”–the one where the sky gets really serious and terms like “gully-washer” come to mind are few and far between
Today I needed the rainstorm. I got really mad at the world last night. Mad at still being so sad over the loss of my Mom. Mad at still being in a place in my life where I so easily feel alone. Mad that so many big things still have such looming worries and uncertainty hanging over them. And tired… tired of feeling so much all the time, and tired of worrying about it all. Today has been a long day of much teariness, and I’ve looked a lot like the weather outside (indeed the weather coupled with the hormones may indeed be part of why I feel so dreary. ) I’ve been dreary, dark, dank. Full of missing my Mom. Full of worrying over deployments that may or may not happen. Full of wishes that Mom could be here to welcome this new child into the world. Full of sadness and uncertainty when I want to be full of the brightness and joy of this great expectation. I have a lot of feelings that would do well to be pounded out onto the ground…. To wash my world clean if only for a moment, so that when the skies clear again everything may feel a bit lighter, fresher, brighter.
Instead… Well, instead I just got a dreary day. Aday where the greyness hangs around you like a robe that’s too big and hangs in your coffee cup, and the rain spits all. day. long. Cold, and damp, and dark. But not cathartic.
I really could have used that rain storm.