Rain and the Courage to Jump into Puddles

The summer is over. Well, at least in the calendar, because here it is still hot as Hell.

I need a holiday, a break, a breather, to step away from this madness that has been 2026 so far. To take a breath.

But I cannot. My husband is still not cured and needs my help and moral support, my daughter starts university at the end of the month and the cats have to be fed.

Not to mention the medical tests that await me to see if there is something wrong with my heart.

I wish I could just stop. To be able to distance myself from the day-to-day routine, to find something to motivate me to carry on.

Well, yesterday was one of those days. A breath of fresh air. Literally.

A short rain caught us, my daughter and me, and we had to, you know, walk in the rain.

It was heavenly.

The cooler air, the smell of wet earth, the freshness of each and every blade of grass.

It took me back to my childhood, when after every summer rain I used to run and jump into puddles. We lived on a side street near the Old Center, where there were almost no passing cars.

Up until this day, I remember the elation, the happiness I felt back then.

What kind of magic is hidden in such a simple activity? Why do I still carry its echoes in my souls?

Why do we have to be kids to be able to jump into puddles and feel free?

Maybe this is all I need.

Rain and the courage to jump into puddles. The courage to do something that brings me pure, unadulterated pleasure, even if it is a childish act.

If we expect good things to come to us, I think we’ll have a long, long wait in front of us.

Today the sky is the bluest of blues, but the memory of yesterday’s rain still lingers on my skin. I will try to hold on to it for as long as I can, put is somewhere safe inside my heart and access it whenever life get too rough.

The memory of a translucent, shiny puddle and the girl who had the guts to jump into it.

                                                                        

Hope Is My Middle Name

Image by Mr Jaded via Flickr

I have to admit it, today was a better day that the last..hm...the last "few" ones. Our dog Dooby is feeling a tad better, not wheezing like an old, almost broken engine, still peeing the house like there is no tomorow. But I decided to simply accept it this way. He is old, he'll die soon (unfortunately) and if I have to clean after him for a while, so be it. Mind you, I am not that optimistic after I clean pee nr. 20, but thank God here in Israel we have tiles all over the apartment, and not wooden floors.
Another reason I feel better is because my son's motorbike's got stolen. Yes, you've heard me. STOLEN! And I am happy about it. He bought it four months ago and this was his third accident...I know he took a loan to pay for the bike and to fix it but he'll pay it up and he'll stay alive. That's the most important thing. We tried to talk him out this motorbike stuff after each and every accident, but he didn't want to listen. So I thought I'd have to smash it to little pieces with a hammer or something, because I couldn't let him ride it again. But God helped us all and somebody stole it! I hope they'll never find the thief...
It rained today. During the day it wasn't the nicest sensation because the weather is pretty hot and you got the feeling you're in a greenhouse. But it the evening! It was pure bliss and paradise together! I opened all the windows and let the fresh air tumble in, paying havoc with my wind-chimes. The smell of fresh air and rain always make me think about my childhood in Romania.
Also, today Maya had her first jump into puddles experience. We took her to the pediatrician and when we got out the alley between the houses was full of fresh, shiny puddles! My husband wanted to stop her but I said that there is no greater pleasure after the rain that to jump into puddles, so I took my baby and showed her how to properly do it.
So after a day like this one, please, allow me to fell hopeful...