Why is it always the rain that brings my melancholy? The memories that I have hidden away, not wanting to revisit, coming back to me with each silvery drop. As I made the long drive home from a conference in pouring rain this afternoon, I felt the sadness steal over my heart, the tears close to the surface. For some reason, I was back in the hospital room again, the morning of August fifteenth, in the last moments I spent with my mother. I have never written about that time, as it was just too painful. In my mind’s eye, I saw her face, her eyes far away, her words gone as she prepared to leave me. I remembered my whispered words of love and gratitude as my tears spilled onto her sweet face, my feelings of helplessness and sorrow. Why now?

As the miles passed, I knew what I needed to do. I spoke to Siri, “Call Linda.” The phone rang several times, and then the sweet voice of my sister was there. She, too, was missing Mom terribly today, our minds in sync. For eighty miles we talked about our feelings, about our gratitude for our mother, sharing story after story. I felt Mom smiling in my heart, her girls remembering her with love, carrying on with the business of life. Soft hearts and  strong wills. The rain brings sadness, but it also brings other gifts, too. By the time I pulled into the garage, we were crying again…but this time with tears of laughter.

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