Maybe it was because I was thinking of summer yesterday,
but last night I was longing for a good
rain, lightening, thunder
desert monsoon storm.
As I laid in bed, cozied up to Hubby
I thought of sitting on the tail gate of my dad's truck
breathing in the smell of desert rain
and watching it ripple and dance in gathering puddles
Then my thoughts took a turn to my eighth birthday.
I had no idea that the details of that day
are etched so clearly in my brain.
I was in Greer at the "cabin" of my grandparents.
I wore a bright shirt that said
"I Love the Great Outdoors."
That shirt was really my dad's. It was enormous
on me, but it was my favorite and I wore it that day.
I remember walking through the tall grasses
to the pond,
thinking on the trust and responsibility
I felt that came with being eight.
I would be baptized soon, after all.
I went fishing with my dad.
Later he took me into "town"
which then was one store and a gas station.
In the store he told me I could pick out anything
for my birthday present.
I chose a folder with a stitched teddy bear on it.
That evening I was tucked under my grandma's arm
and we were tossing pop corn to the birds and squirrels.
Then one of those
wonderful summer storms rolled in
and we watched the rain together.
I think that might have been the moment
I fell in love
with watching the rain.
-while this memory was playing
like a movie in my mind-
I realized that it was the next year that
my grandma passed on.
It is the last clear and happy memory I have of her.
That might be why I love those summer storms so much.