Rain

Even more than trees, I love the rain. I love the sound and smell. I love the way it perks up plants, so much better than sprinkler water. I love puddles and mud. I love the break from sun and the clearing in the air. I sometimes think that just by thinking about rain, I can make it rain (I have a pretty good track record). My sister, Clare, reminded me that in high school I used to drop a lot of liquid on the floor before it rained. It started raining here in arid Colorado yesterday afternoon.

When it comes to difficult or just scary things, I have a great ability to charge ahead toward them step by step, logically, overriding the attached emotions until, generally, right before the event. Then I take the stage to read at Ruminate Open Mic night, and my hands start to shake. Then my water breaks unexpectedly, and I'm ready to throw up. Then I'm dressed and ready to drive to the courthouse to file separation papers, and I'm an emotional basket case. I sit on the toilet in the bathroom, hoping for God to speak to me (places with water are sacred), and I cry. "I don't want to do this," I tell Michael. "I don't know if I want to either," he replies, hugging me.

So it is that I went to work yesterday until 2:30. I drove home to drop off some pumped breast milk, driving under trees in amazing spring colors - neon green, purple, white - promising great things to come. I drove to Boulder to meet Michael to go to the district court house (little known fact that you don't want to ever have to find out, you can't file separation papers in Colorado at a county court house). We filed the papers.

And that was it. No sweeping soundtrack. No lightening bolts. No earthquakes. No fainting or "finally having the nervous breakdown I deserve." Handed over the paperwork, signed and walked out.

But last night, the emotions stole upon me again with no logical actions to intervene. It was done. In some sense, Michael and I are done. We are at an end, but, as the trees promised, no doubt also a beginning. It was raining when I was getting ready for bed, and I crouched on the back stoop, smelling the rain, letting cold drops fall on my head, letting wind fall across my face. And I felt God not only caressing me, not only beside me, not only holding me up, but, my Good Lord, crying with me.

"When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, 'Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.' When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. 'Where have you laid him?' he asked. 'Come and see, Lord' they replied. Jesus wept. (John 11:32-35)

It is still raining today. I am fatigued as if I have run a long race. But there are smiles. Harper was lying on the living room floor playing. Asher was playing one of his forms of cowboys-pirates-Noah's Ark-firetruck-mountain climber. I left the room briefly and heard Harper start to fuss. I returned to the room to see Asher holding my coffee mug and coffee (cooled, fortunately) dripping all over sweet Harper's head. "Me give Harper gink coffee," Asher said. Apparently. To my surprised look, Asher responded, "Me want gink."