When I was a little girl, Thunderstorms scared the living breath out of me. My mom would tell me that it was angels moving furniture in heaven. As I grew the rain became a fascination. An event I remember quite clearly was leaving a little sand sphinx out in the rain when I lived in Arizona. I went back the next morning and the sphinx had eroded, I claimed satan had put a mark on me. My mother told me I was nuts and bought me a book on Egyptology.
I went to my cousins house for some reason, as we drove in my grandfather's old white minivan five year old me watched the rain race down the window. I always rooted for the really little droplets. I imagined they all had families and had to race to gain more food. When I arrived at my cousin's house (she was seven at the time) We put our blankets into the dryer and worked on making pop tarts, hot chocolate, and two bowls of cereal for a rainy picnic. We weren’t going to go sit in the rain, but rather on this little piece of pavement in her backyard the the roof hung over very conveniently. We watched the rain for hours before her mom found us.
As I grew older still, rain was the time that I feared most. My father died on a day with rain, and it rained that whole week. No hot chocolate or tea could have made me feel better. I missed him so dearly, and felt so guilty that I asked the rain to forgive me. I asked the waters to poor over me in a cool embrace and remind me that I wasn’t to blame. I was eleven.
When I turned thirteen, my knowledge of spirits and how to contact them grew immensely. I was at my cousin's house, (this was the same cousin from the previous story, she lived in a new house though.) which was located in the middle of the desert. I wrote a letter to my father, four pages. Asking him questions and desiring some kind of proof that he was still with me. The definition of “Be careful what you wish for.” was that evening. I burnt the letter, sending it to the heavens and to my father. My cousin and I went back inside, when I freak storm had appeared. Light crashed and illuminated the house, turning off the power. The power kicked back on quickly but loud claps of thunder sounded through the night. Rain poured down in buckets. I hadn’t ever seen anything like it. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. The shadow of my Dad, he was standing across the room from me, and I froze.
And today, when I was too angry for words, or the only thing I could do was dance. I did so in the rain. Letting it wash away that hate and letting the universe remind me that it was okay. I was valid and the anger I was feeling was valid.
