The Morning After
It is a slow moving morning, the rain a soft but steady drumming on the roads, broken by the occasional hiss of car tires moving through a layer of water. I don't mind that it is raining again, and I don't even worry about the threats of flash floods, or getting water in the studio.
I came downstairs, observing with a smile the scattered remains from the previous day. A bag of diapers on the floor. Shells and stones from my beach collection scattered throughout the house, much more interesting to my little niece and nephew than the Fisher Price toys I bought downstairs for them to play with. Pizza boxes. Limes thrown in the sink, awaiting the compost bin from the drinks I made the night before. The cannoli box, ringed with stains from bits of creme that seeped through. Grass from the lawn scattered from little feet coming in from the sprinker. A few small bags from our shopping adventures. A scrap of mud from the farm.
I want to preserve these things, not clean them up. They are memories of a day spent with loved ones, a day full of sunshine, play, adventure, ringing with laughter from the adults and the children. It was time to not worry about bills, money, health or death, our only goal was to have fun and give and receive love.
At this time in my life, spending time with them is comforting. My sister and I are close. We don't have the same relationship with my brothers, and most of our life beyond the teen years was lived without parents. At times we have been each other's anchor, confidant. We are the only link that resembles family...the others separated by distance, sickness, or their spririts in another realm.
We haven't made a pact yet, but I know my sister will join....to make the effort to make the visits more often, to shower one another with the priceless gift of laughter, love, joy, and adventure, and teach the little ones that family is a treasure.
And rain, is just rain.....the sun always shines again.