Up where I work, it’s a drier micro-climate. There always seems to be plenty of sun, wind, and nice days.
This afternoon, a squall rolled through.
The smell of rain on dry soils and sidewalks brought a memory back to me, powerfully. Being of a certain age, I seem to have a number of stories which need to be told. And this is one of them.
My Mom died of metastatic breast cancer, back in 1978. The cure was worse than the disease, then.
It was to be her last trip to the hospital, and my Dad of course was there to lock the house behind them, and then to follow them to the hospital.
You need to know that my Mom was a person of the outdoors. She loved camping, she loved the outdoors; if nothing more than to sit and watch Nature being Nature. She was an accomplished gardener, with the beds around each of our houses making all into showplaces. Color and texture, variety of height and presentation, those were abundant in the art she applied to living plants, both inside and out. She was one of the region’s premiere flower show judges, and to have her frequent flower arrangements in the house brought a touch of the genius of design with an eye to natural presentation, so very unlike some of the ‘flower arrangements’ available at flower shops.
A person of the outdoors. A person who enjoyed the look of Nature, and being out in Nature.
Because of her disease, she had been trapped in the house for some time, with some trips to the hospital. And now she was going to the hospital for the last time. The attendants tenderly placed her on the gurney, and gently rolled her out the front door, to exit the house that she and my Dad had built; going out the front door for the very last time.
And suddenly, it began to rain. Not a drizzle, not a deluge, but one of those rains which spot your clothes and give you wet polka-dots. The attendants said to her, “We’ll hurry, we’ll keep you from getting wet”.
“No, wait,” she said. “I want to feel the rain on my face.”
And so they stood for several minutes in the rain, those normally in-a-hurry ambulance attendants with my Mom; and my Dad standing patiently nearby. And my Mom got to feel the rain on her face for one last time.
So I very seldom anymore complain about the rain.
Nor do I try too awfully hard to duck in out of it.