What Did She Say

Today was a cloudy, but warm and dry day. Right up until I was about two blocks from picking Baby Girl up from school. Then it got dark, windy and VERY rainy. A downpour, if you will. There was still about ten minutes to go until I had to be in the schoolyard to get her, so I stayed in the van. I was in a good mood, but starting to think, “Great. Perfect timing. It rains NOW? Bah!”

The rain let up a bit from its torrential downpour to a steady rain. It was still windy as hell. I was watching people walk by fighting with their umbrellas as they blew inside out.

I luckily had my awesome, deep, clear, pink cuffed umbrella I had just gotten from Jell-O Mousse. They’re doing some promo via Twitter and giving out some stuff around the theme of “me time”. (This is not a post about the umbrella or Jell-O, but there is a reason I mention it.) In fact, here is The Boy trying it out the day we got it.

If I’d had a regular umbrella I would have said, “screw it” because the wind would have grabbed hold of it. But with this style I could almost cocoon in it and be somewhat sheltered. And because it’s clear, could still see.

I was not in a foul mood, but I wasn’t all puppies and rainbows walking along in the gales and tears from heaven beating down. I was just trodding along to get to my daughter.

Then something happened. Well, nothing really happened. There was no event that triggered it, but I got happy. Really, stupid happy. So happy a goofy grin spread across my face as I walked along, sheltered in my pink shell.

I was thankful. I was so purely grateful. I can’t explain it.

I looked down and I saw the raindrops making their little impressions in the newly formed puddles and layer of water that covered the sidewalk and asphalt. And it made me happy.

I was happy my son was at our neighbour’s place so I didn’t have to trudge him along.

I was happy I had a functional umbrella. (And a cute one.) And wasn’t one of the poor sods fighting a losing battle with theirs.

I was happy I was on my way to see my daughter after missing her all day – and not seeing her before school since I had a breakfast/morning event (which was fabulous.)

I was happy I wasn’t one of the poor worms on the sidewalk. Or especially the sad, little slimy creature being washed away by what must have seemed like the Rio Grande to him. (Was it a him? How do you tell with worms?) He was giving it his all not to lose the battle, but it looked pretty bleak. I seriously, for one millisecond, thought of trying to save the worm. Then I snapped out of it.

I was happy it wasn’t cold outside on top of the wind and rain. It was actually a decent temperature.

I was happy to live in a country and neighbourhood where I could walk down the sidewalk on my own and not fear for my safety or belongings.

I was happy to live in a place of peace, not full-out, soldiers-in-the-street, bombings-as-a-regular-occurence, war.

I was happy to live in a country where I get to play a part in who governs our country – and not have to fight for that right.

I was happy to feel that I have everything I need to live a tranquil life.

I was so indescribably happy and just grateful.

Why then? Who knows. Who cares. I had a spectacular few moments. And they were bliss.

Then I saw my daughter. My bliss continued. We walked. We both scrunched into the umbrella and tilted it slightly in front of us so not to catch the wind too much.

And my daughter spontaneously started talking about what she was thankful for.

She was thankful for mommy.

She was thankful for our walk together.

She thanked me for getting the umbrella we were sharing. (Then I told her it was a gift from Jell-O Mousse and she wanted to make sure I thanked Jell-O.)

We got to the van and she heard the water pouring into the storm drain. She watched it with fascination for a couple minutes. And I just stood there watching her watching it. I am so incredibly blessed.

Who knew I could find such a blissful time in the wind and the rain, standing there by a grate?

I have a wonderful life. And for those few minutes, everything that doesn’t matter anyway had gotten washed away with the rain.