When the storms runs out of rain
It’s been a tough few years on a lot of fronts. Don’t get me wrong – we are incredibly blessed and should really have little to complain about. Our families’ illnesses turned out just fine to date. So, while stressful at the time, things are now pretty good. Even my mom’s death was sad but not a tragedy. She went like we all wish we would go – very fast and not realizing it was happening. I am super comforted to know she was not scared and that she never lived through either her children’s illnesses or the pandemic.
But on the real home home front, while it’s been less severely bumpy, the storm has seemed to linger for awhile. An unanticipated tick bite and subsequent illness, a pretty significant exacerbation of my asthma and this year’s lawnmower injury have all taken the wind out of our sails for the past eighteen months. Add to that some job uncertainty for both of us, the regular wear and tear of life and – candidly – a pandemic and the storm has lingered. Slowly, the storm is now running out of rain.
For those who don’t know, Maya Angelou famously said, “every storm runs out of rain” and I personally feel like it’s a good moniker for life. We all experience hard times and we often don’t know how severe or how long those times will last. But eventually, the storm dries up. When our families were going through the worst of their hard times, Darryl and I were so grateful that our lives were so good. It allowed us the capacity to assist those we loved get through their tough times. But for the last year or so, our luck ran a bit thin (though we continue to be luckier than most). So, here we are in what seems to be the end – finally – of the storm. After a few fits and starts, it does appear that the clouds are finally lifting, the sun is peaking through and the blue sky is out there on the horizon.
Believe it or not, I am grateful to the past eighteen months and the challenges we faced. It made us appreciate the good times and helped us to grow a little closer together as we relied on each other and the safety of home to navigate our storms. As we start to enter this next phase, I thought about not acknowledging it for fear that I would “jinx” our new and better horizon. And then I remembered the lesson I learned when my sister was sick: if I anxiously wait around for the other shoe to fall, I will miss out on all of the good times and memories that were happening around me while I was waiting. If the worst happened, I would have squandered all of my chances at joy before the worst happened. If it didn’t, I still squandered my chances at joy. It was a true “lose/lose” situation.
So, I am applying that same logic here. The storm could come roaring back. It certainly did in June when Darryl got injured. If it does, there’s no real value in having been “prepared for the storm.” It was going to happen anyway and it’s a fallacy to believe that a highly anxious person is better prepared for bad news than someone who is relaxed and happy.
Thus, I am inviting the joy into my life without reservation. We did it. We weathered this most recent storm. We have good things to look forward to. Our upcoming renovations. Darryl’s pending new job. My slower pace of life through the end of the year. My focus can pivot away from business development and stretching to reach my billable target to picking out new furnishings and Christmas gifts and planning our upcoming vacations.
I am looking forward to a series of small celebrations. A little champagne on the night Darryl receives a formal offer and accepts. A respite around Thanksgiving as our renovations are hopefully finished and I can pivot to Christmas planning. A visit to New Orleans for the holidays. A trip in February with my sisters. A few fires and glasses of wine on cool fall nights. Some stacking of firewood and then a hearty dinner from the crockpot at the kitchen island. Helping my niece decorate her home. Watching my nephew’s football game. Seeing my other niece graduate from law school. Visiting the pumpkin farm this fall.
This week, it is 18 months to the day that the pandemic started in our world. It was the Sunday before the Monday when New York would shut down. Some other states were already shut down; others would soon follow. It would be the beginning of a series of storm-related activities. Today now seems so innocuous and monumental at the same time. The storm feels over and it is a landmark day. On the other hand, it’s just another day.
Today, however, I am embracing the end of the storm. I have plans for life. Darryl and I have a date this weekend. My nephew has his first home football game. My niece closes today on her house. My other niece and her husband will be home this weekend. Life is good.
And it’s over. The storm is truly over.
The Yuppie Homesteader 