As the coffin slowly descends into its final resting place a small drop of rain licks my cheek, urging me to let the healing begin. Rain has the power to stop the hurt. Rain has the ability to wash the sorrow away. Rain is healing. My grandfather passed away, leaving me empty and alone. His passing hurt more than I could ever bare, and it was eating away at me bit by bit. I wanted life to end then and there, but the pain was so impossibly excruciating that I sat there staring at his grave unable to move. The only thing that I could hear was the beat of my saddened heart and the roar of thunder slowly approaching. I stood there in the misty fog for 3 hours without even blinking; my legs wouldn’t move, my eyes couldn’t cry, and my heart wouldn’t stop beating, no matter how hard I wished it. His death opened my eyes to the idea that rain is healing.
I was still in shock, unmoving and emotionless, so I waited. My face became wet but not from tears. Instantaneously, or so it seemed to me, I was soaked. The rain picked up from a drizzle to a monsoon in a matter of seconds. My motionless figure did not waver even a centimeter from its original stature. The rain poured over my head trickling down my face, hugging the contours of every emotion I had ever shown before. The air became harsh and with every breath there was a portion of my soul leaving my body. With each wisp that exited my throat came a new sense of hope. My breathing became faster and harder as the wind picked up and the rain began to sting. For the first time in hours I moved. I slowly lifted my eyes to the heavens. With one loud sigh and a cloud lifting itself from my body, the pain was gone.
My body steaming and my emotions clearly out of whack, yet I felt only one thing, the drip, drip, drip of the rain. Every drop washed away a fear, a doubt, a pain, until there was none left for me to worry about. The pain wasn’t permanently gone, but, for that moment, I was at peace with what had happened. Following this credo has become easier with the time that has passed. Every time it rains, the pain rises to the surface of my being and leaves me just as fast as it appeared. The rain is my medicine; it is the reason that I remain sane. Let the rain fall.
Anyone who has ever lost someone close knows the pain and agony that resides deep inside for the rest of his or her life. This feeling will never truly leave, but it cannot be allowed to run through our veins affecting everything we say and do. The rain can stop the hurt; it can help release the agony that has taken over. On a day that is cloudy and the air is thick with moisture, walk outside and let the heaviness of life crash down. Let go of what is known and what is easy and trust in what the elements make us feel. Many people become sad and euphoric when it rains, and that is because they have something that they are unwilling to release. Letting go of the past, for some, is near impossible. Yet, the rain will fall whether we like it or not. I can only hope that one person who is holding onto a memory or grudge will let it out. It will never be easy, yet it will be for the better. The rains can sooth a worried mind just from their scent. It can mend a broken heart by being as gentle as a kiss. The rain is only as powerful as we make it.
The rain can be gentle, it can be violent, but most of all it is exactly what is needed to forgive the unforgivable or to mend the emendable. Whatever the pain, whatever the travesty, the rain will pause life for a moment and place itself before our feet. Known only for being wet after a storm, I have let the rain wash over my soul many times, one drop for every thought of agony or fear. I have endured many storms. When lost and confused, look to the skies and let the rain sweep over you. I believe the rain is healing.
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