Into each life a little rain must fallOct 17, 2018
Into each life a little rain must fall. 2018 has proven the year of torrential downpours in my life. Early in the summer I was ordered to move out of the house I believed I would die in (in old age) as the result of divorce proceedings. Most of the rain during this portion of my life was coming from my eyes. I reeled twisting like a flag in a hurricane to find a place suitable for me and three kids (Serenity and I will split the parenting 50/50). Only days after finding out I must leave the house my mother died unexpectedly. Yes, she was healthy as an ox (a very healthy ox) and we had just made plans for her next visit to Vermont when she drowned in a Float Spa. There is a little comfort in knowing how much she was looking forward to taking the relaxing float she needed. I miss my mother dearly on the regular. I had only found a place to live the day before she died. I so looked forward to sharing the fields and the old house with her. My mother was my sounding board as I transitioned out of marriage, as I rediscovered who I was in the world and the community. In a very brief time I was introduced to two major life transitions that I had no choice but to live death and divorce. I have questioned how to share this information with my community of family, friends and colleagues as I felt great shame in the divorce and an unbearable pain at the death of my mother. Some of the sleuths out there have read deeper into my poems and writings and posts causing them to private message me about life. I have shared with a few of you as I seek a healthy way to deal with my grief and shame. So this is the rainy period of my life. My mother was a gardener who never lamented the rain. There was much I learned from her including ways to process life now. This is a transformation just as the trees transform each year growing leaves, processing sunlight and rain and earth nutrients, then dropping those leaves. Human lives can do the same. Just as in the spring when the new leaves sprout the tree becomes different (possibly new). Quite possibly this is my time to shed leaves and take a moment to become new / different. As my mother the gardener did not lament the rain, I will drink of the substance of life allowing it to feed my soul for growth. With each rain the gardens grow to produce that which we need to sustain ourselves. I pray, may there be rainfall in your life, enough to sustain you and sunshine enough to grow. And I pray the same for myself.