Last night I fell asleep to the rain pounding on the windows and the thunder crashing overhead, and I was brought back to one particular memory, one of the few that I have of this timeframe.
It was a while ago, when I was five or six years old, when my family lived in Chicago Illinois. My mom was just picking up me and my older brother from school when it started to drizzle, but we only lived a few blocks away, so we figured we might as well trudge on. I remember walking in between the tall brick buildings and seeing the potted flowers, and stomping in puddles as the thunder and lightning crashed up above.
I remember how my mom clutched my hand tighter, and the slick, slippery feel of my rainboots…and I remember how everything felt droopy and gloomy. Then, it started literally raining sheets of water down on us, so we started not walking, but running through the streets. I remember laughing as I tried to keep up with my mom and older brother because I wanted to hide how nervous I was.
I also remember the sigh of relief that went through my body as we reached the familiar porch and wooden front door or our familiar house. I remember stepping inside, and breathing a sigh of relief. I remember how itchy and soggy everything felt after that, and how my socks were soaked through, and how we all changed into pajamas and cuddled on the couch with our homework and hot cocoa.
I know it may seem silly, but this is one of my favorite memories. Just the fact that I wasn’t alone and how free I felt as I ran through the rain, how good it felt to arrive safely home. It is something I’ll never forget.
Love you all,