standing in the rain

Hands touch hands, and I look up to the sky and see grey. The tears sting the bottom of my eyes, I breathe in and swallow a whimper.

When I look down again, I see my mother watching me from the giant wrap around porch. Everything in slow motion. She smiles at me and waves as I play in the rain. Don’t get too cold Rose! She calls out then turns and goes inside. I twirl and run to the neighboring forest imagining all of the adventures I would go on. The struggles for survival. The search for love. Finding beauty. I would twirl and fall and climb until I was drenched. Then, I would look back and see the house with its windows glowing with warmth and the promise of hot chocolate. That moment coming back inside and being home with her…I could still smell the hot chocolate.

Rose, would you like to say a few words? I glanced at the reverend, unclasped my hand and stared at the glossy wooden box in front of me. Shaking, I stood. Once I made it to the podium, next to a picture of my mother smiling back at me, my heart felt like it was being pulled through a taffy machine. The tears flooded my eyes, and I ungracefully wiped the snot making its way down my nose. I took a long deep breath forcing the sobs in line to wait their turn. I looked up at the names and faces in the crowd and breathed out…My mother would always let me play in the rain.

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