Jumping in the rain

When a baby is born, a mother is born

Becoming a mother is a transformation

a changing

a movement away from self toward another human

away from selfishness toward selflessness

time ages you

grows you up

softens you in some spots

hardens in others--

my daily laughter faded

waxed and waned

tears to melancholy 

melancholy to bursts of hope

hope burst and back to tears

occasional laughter

painted smile or genuine, few and far between.

the garden needed watering. 

I watered it. 

finishing up, it started to sprinkle on me. 

moments later under the canopy, rain pouring

downpouring

crashing down from the sky

My return inside the house was met with an excited question,

"Can we get wet outside?" 

"Of course."

No one wanted to join her. She went back to her chair, dejected. 

This moment was my chance. 

A chance to laugh in the rain

to dance in the rain

to jump in the rain

and perhaps, maybe perhaps, create a happy memory for the two of us. 

I switched my glasses for an older pair, one I wouldn't mind getting wet or dirty.

I reached out and whispered to her, "Come on!"

Outside we went. Into the rain we went. 

We jumped on the trampoline.

We laughed. 

She giggled. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Couldn't believe what was happening. 

In the rain, we hugged as I poured compliments and praise into my sweet Jules. 

The rain poured. And poured.

My heart overflowed with joy, for just a moment in time. 

What a beautiful rainstorm.