It's raining, the good rain, the kind of rain I like. The quite rain, that arrives at the end of the day and calls for pajamas immediately after work. The kind that makes blankets, and couches and books and a hot drink seem like the best idea you've had all day. The good rain makes you pensive in the best possible way.
This kind of rain restores my love of the rain. Unlike the rain we mentioned last go round, I call that the bad kind of rain. Which I'll let lie in my last post. We'll just move onto a weather report of my weekend which was sunny and bright with only a few drops of rain.
I had my Saturday to myself, sometime last year I named these "me days." Days when I have absolutely nowhere to go, days I can just be . My mother assures me this is not selfish, that it's healthy and a time to rest. My mother's approval of my "me days" is reason four hundred and fifty nine gazillion of why I love my mother. "Me days" take various shapes and forms and occasionally evolve into non "me days." I fully intend to incorporate "me days" into a future prenup agreement. You don't have to pray for me, I don't want anyones money, I just don't want to be cold or live with mice. And I find some time to myself makes me much less cantankerous. Now I know an entire "me day" is unrealistic for many people, so I'll throw in I believe the same effect can come from eating an ice cream cone pre dinner and swinging your worries away at a local park. Sunshine on my weekend, it was nice.
The rain drops hit taking my Granjanie back to her nursing home after our Mother's day dinner. My Granjanie has full blown dementia and can barely walk. She now lives in "wheels." The staff call her "speedy" due to how fast she gets around in her wheelchair. She also has more grace and rhythm on four wheels than I'll ever hope to have on two feet.
All that to state she needs full time twenty-four hour care. My mom visits multiple times a week and weekly takes my Grandmother to church. Last night she was confused as usual and did not want to stay at the nursing home. It was heart wrenching. I would have much preferred to be swept away by a tidal wave than to watch my Granjanie's frustration and hurt and her hurt drown my mother's heart.
It was a fresh reminder that life is not fair and oft smells like a wet dog after a muddy 'bad rain'. I do not know why I felt compelled to share that, I guess it's my personal reminder of the need to be thankful. To look for the good rain that comes right along with the bad rain.
Boy can I ramble! If you're still here, God bless you. In honor of the rain I'll drop some thanks onto my 1,000 thanks list.
24. for me days
25. for sushi
26. for whatever smelled so good on my walk
27. for sunrises
28. for good books
29. for the grace to survive self-inflicted sleep deprivation
30. for coffee
31. for a yummy scone
32. for painted toenails
33. for family that never changes despite bumps and bruises
34. for God's Word
35. for a movie that made me laugh
36. for being a girl, i'd have made an awful boy
37. for growth
That's it! Until next time, I hope you get a refreshing moment to yourself and a downpour of good rain that bring forth showers of blessings.