Come to me
Help me feel
Help me breathe
Wow, that’s hard to say.
As I sat yesterday admiring the beauty of the rainfall encompassing my outside surroundings, I began to relive my past attempting to understand how my path unfolded.
When I was in my youth the rain always possessed some sort of security for me. I loved the sounds, smells, and of course the puddles. Never needing a towel to dry my drenched heavy clothes, my family and friends never seemed to understand the fascination I had developed with the descriptively irritating weather.
Growing older through my high school years, the rain seemed seldom to show. Sure, I played sports and was always an active outdoors person, so it posed devastating when my baseball games were canceled or the prolific flash and crash of skylights stopped anyone from wanting to socialize with troubled me. But when it came to an enjoyable rain, I hadn’t experienced the childhood sensation I used to get, in what seemed to be an eternity.
Upon my graduation from high school, I was under the impression the world was at my disposal. “I’m grown now, everyone has to answer to me.” Foolish and conceded, I was due up for a rude and unwelcome experience. The summer after graduation my world was flipped upside down when my mother’s untimely and unpredictable death occurred. Living alone with her in rural Pennsylvania, I was a new grad with ample opportunity but no idea of how to live. Self-sufficiency and maturity were two words my vocabulary did not possess.
As the sirens blared towards our less than a stellar townhouse, the silent night protruded my mind and as imaginable my loss seemed insurmountable. Lying in the room provided by the hospital for the family of the intensive care patients, I wept as my head spun with complete turmoil and disillusion. Being July Fourth, the fireworks flew. Popping and chattering throughout the neighboring cities. I stared out the window in complete awe, wondering how anyone can be celebrating in a time like this.
Without the realization that the world was unaware of my mother’s fate and misfortune, I cursed at…