Smells Like Rain

I was sitting on my back porch Sunday evening, having a glass of wine.  Surrounded by several candles, I relaxed with some Blank & Jones -- Relax Season 1 Metacoustix -- I'd discovered earlier in the day, listening to it now for the third time through.  (I tend to wear it out when I love something.)  I'd spent most of the day piddling, perusing, painting -- none of which accomplished anything productive, but I gave myself permission to not feel guilty about that. 

There's something about surrounding myself with things that make me happy.  Simple nothings.  No particular rhyme or reason.  No mission.  Just landing here and there on life's little moments...like a butterfly floating around from here to there kissing flowers. 

A breeze began to muster more kick, the candle flames began jumping, jamming, and the maple seed "helicopters" littered on the lawn and patio were now spinning out of control.

I inhaled deeply....."I smell rain..."   My heart smiled. 

What did you do today?

 

Oh.  This.  That.  Everything.  Nothing really.

 

I see.

And it's been raining off and on ever since.  Strangely enough, I haven't grown tired of it.  As I sat working on transcripts in my office this morning, I noticed it growing dimmer.  I lit another lamp.  (I don't like overhead lights, ESPECIALLY fluorescents, so I have lamps everywhere.)  I glanced outside and watched the rain falling, the overcast of mist and fog obsuring the buildings of the city.  I'm okay with this -- with the rain.  It matches my mood right now.  Life is balanced.

I logged on to my CVS account and ordered my sisters and my mother-in-law personalized mother's day cards with photos I'd gathered from the past ..... some of my mom.....and a few old photos of my father-in-law and mother-in-law sitting together, arms around each other, big smiles.  My two youngest sons never knew him.  He died before they were born.  I hesitated, wondering if this card would make her sad, seeing the two of them together.  I don't want her to be sad.  She's lonely, living on that farm out in the middle of nowhere by herself.  When she makes her way down to the mailbox and opens this card, will she feel even lonelier?  Or will it bring a smile as I hoped?

When my sisters open their cards, will they feel happy or sad, seeing my mother's photo -- ones they never even knew existed? 

How do I feel when I see her photo?  Happy?  Uh...no.  I feel empty.  Homesick.  I need her so badly in my life right now.  It hurts still.  I try to be strong.  Move on, T. 

But I wanna bring HER flowers.....send HER a photo card.....take HER to dinner.....or invite HER over for lemon pie (her favorite) and coffee. 

It's funny how music can trigger images in our minds.  There are certain songs that I cannot bear to listen to ..... they make me think of a person, or a place, or a time that is now only a memory. 

There is a song on a CD that I bought last fall entitled "Angels With You."  My mother spoke frequently of angels the last few months of her life.  And the first Christmas without her, I found an old Christmas card that she'd sent to me years ago which she had signed:  "I'm always near,"  her seemingly prophetic promise that no matter what, she would never leave me...she was always with me.  When I heard "Angels With You" for the first time, I did not know the name of it.  I had never heard it before in my life.  It is an instrumental piece.  I remember as I listened that very first time, I began to feel an overwhelming sense of her presence all round me, like one big gigantic hug.  I couldn't shake that feeling.  How strange.  Why would I feel her presence listening to THIS song?  And then I later discovered its title.  It blew me away.

As I drove to work one day last week, I switched on the CD player, tiring of the endless chatter and commericals from the local radio stations.  That song began playing.  And I thought of her.  I thought of moments spent with her on HER back porch.  I felt her smiling down from heaven.

Mom loved to sit on her back porch swing and listen to the rain.  I can remember seeing the tree limbs sway as we sat there together, and she'd say, "Ahhhh.... smell that?  Smells like rain."  And she'd smile the sweetest smile.

Back porches, they're great for that.  Can't beat 'em.  Light a candle, sit, relax, celebrate life, inhale, exhale, and listen to it rain.