Rain Dance

March sucked, yeah?

We're drenched. Basements are flooded, yards are mud, and running shoes are ruined from stepping in a pothole concealed by six inches of rainwater. We're cold, tired, and complaining.

We've pissed and moaned our way through March as the rainfall--which would have been about 17 feet high had it been snow--pummeled us. But, there were times, as I took my pup out to pee (standing and swearing under my breath) that I remembered how much I used to love the rain.

I have an old picture. I'm in a white t-shirt and jean skirt, hair swept up in a clip, and cuddling my then two year-old daughter as the rain poured down and we splashed in puddles....All smiles. We lived in Melrose at the time, in a cramped two-family house. I had nothing in the refrigerator--literally--and lived minute-to-minute (not even day-to-day). I was under a tremendous amount of stress, wondering how I was going to take care of this precious baby, her brother, and myself for that matter. But, when I look at that photo, I smile. It conjures up something so innately happy inside me--- something I can't believe I ever possessed.

I was young, stupid, and romanticized every aspect of my life. It was to my detriment, at the time. But, wow, how I wish I could have that mindset back now that things have changed.

I'm not sure where along the path I got so jaded. Well, that's false. I could give you very specific details of why I am the way I am. But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that in life there are reminders: A photo, a phrase, or a song, that propel you back in time, tickling your memory about who you are and where you've been. If it's a good memory, it should warm your soul. If it's bad, it should ease your mind to know you made it out okay, and are probably a better person for it.

For example, as I write, I'm listening to an old Kenny Chesney CD--- one of my favorites that I've not popped into the Bose player for quite sometime for fear it would stir up old memories I had tucked away in a safe place. "She's from Boston.",  "Old Blue Chair", and,  "Something Sexy About the Rain".  Suddenly, I was transported back in time....A time when Sunday morning rain made me feel very sexy. Now, listening to the water pelt the rooftop just makes me sad and snarly.

But this little exercise allowed me to ask myself, Why? What's so bad about a torrential downpour now and then? (Other than the flooded basement, of course).

Back when that old photo was taken--- rain didn't' depress me. It felt refreshing, natural, and cleansing.  I was in a bad place in my life emotionally and financially, and walking out into a storm momentarily washed my worries away.  Today, I'm in a really good place. I own a great house, have a rewarding job, that baby and her brother are healthy teenagers. Yet, I curse the very thing that used to bring me comfort.  . What's wrong with this picture?

Perhaps I love that snapshot so much because it represents a youthful innocence: A time when nothing mattered except finding happiness in the moment. I had nothing, yet, everything, it now seems.

Shit. I still have a lot to learn.

Next rainfall, I'm dancing.

Read the '40 Winks' blog each month to share in my journey as a 40-something single mom in the suburbs. (It's like Sex in the City, minus the city and the sex.)