After weeks of it invading every area of my life, my mind has snapped. I now, wholeheartedly embrace the rain. The rain is my new best friend. Overcoming barriers that I had previously established, the rain has invaded my personal space and garnered my affection. In Psychology class I learned that you can come to accept something for little other reason than the fact that you encounter it so often. Do you remember that person at school or work that you started out thinking was so plain, but then after many weeks of being around them and getting to know them they began looking a little attractive? Such has the rain accomplished in my life.
I used to have a man-crush on the sun. He would always be around, lighting my way, heating the air to comfortable levels and drying up the sodden ground. When the sun was around I could mow my lawn weekly, use the string trimmer (up in Maine we prefer “weed whacker”) or even sit outside to read. Alas, the fickle louse is not to be seen around these parts any more. I never realized, but the object of my affection was only a fair-weather friend.
The rain, I have found out, is quite the opposite. Perfectly content to never leave my side, the rain is willing to go everywhere with me. The rain comes to work and heads down to the library with me afterwards. The rain follows me home, goes to church (my dear friend, the rain, cares not what denomination I am), takes me out to dinner and then doesn’t mind heading to Wal*Mart to pick up a few needed items. The rain sticks closer than any other.
So, here’s to my pal, the rain. To cement our relationship I stood outside in the chill of night, bathing in a freezing downpour of my friend’s happy tears until I was sodden to the bone. It seems the rain realized that it had finally broken through that tough façade I wear and now he continually weeps tears of joy at my acceptance. To prove he was a long-lasting friend, he even followed me to the emergency room as I was treated for hypothermia. As the doctors pared off my frozen skin the rain waited patiently for me to finish and come back outside to meet him.
A true friend doesn’t turn away from you just because you are now missing half an ear and the tip of your nose.
(Ending with that though, I would like to wish a heart-felt “God Bless” to Andrew Osenga who lost one of his toes to the lawn mower. Prayers are still said on your behalf.)