Rain, Rain, Come Again

I used to love the rain. I remember when I was a child, I was happy every time it rained. I was happy splashing with every drop that touched my skin and playing in the mud. These are not the only reasons why I loved the rain. What I asked for the most when the rainy season came were my grandmother's tales about the rain spirits. "Flora, did you know that every raindrop is called a rain spirit?" my grandma told me one night as she put me to bed. "What is a rain spirit?" my little voice squeaked as I listened to the raindrops on the tin roof. "When the rain comes, the rain spirits bless the earth. They water the plants, they keep the river flowing—they just make everything grow and live," my grandma stopped, took a deep breath, and smiled. "Wow," I gasped. "Can I see them, grandma?" "Yes, of course, my dear. They show themselves to people with kind hearts," my grandma placed her hand on my chest. I giggled. "And the rain spirits can heal the wounds of your soul," she added. Ever since my grandma told me about the rain spirits, I looked forward to every rainfall. I also looked forward to my grandma's stories and never got tired of hearing them, even if they were repeated over and over again. I promised myself I would be a kid with the kindest heart. And as a young girl, I only had one dream in life—to meet the rain spirits. But I never understood why some people despised the rainfall; why some of them fell into the depths of unfathomable despair, why others mourned and why the rain made people upset. I just never knew why. Not until the day when the rain took the most important person in my life. I stared blankly at my grandma Carin's tombstone. I repeatedly read her name on the grave until tears formed in my eyes. I bit my lip, closed my eyes, and cried deeply. My heart was burdened with great sorrow. I still couldn't believe that the person who raised me and loved me the most was gone. I still couldn't accept her sudden death. Her death was so sudden that I was still left in shock. "Flora, let's go?" I felt Jo's hand on my shoulder. Her fingers gently pressed my skin. I shook my head. I wasn't ready to leave yet and go home, knowing that no one was waiting for me. My heart was again wrapped in bitterness and sadness as I thought that I would never hear grandma Carin's voice again and never embrace her again. If I had known that she would be taken from me forever, I wouldn't have let her go alone on that day. If I hadn't gotten sick, I would have left instead, and I would be the one in grandma's position. Jo sighed and took my hand. She handed me an umbrella. "Here, use this because it looks like it's going to rain," Jo said with a sigh. "Flor, you don't have to grieve alone. I'm here, okay?" I didn't speak and continued to stare at each letter of grandma's name. Few of the people who came bid their goodbyes as they left the cemetery. One by one, the people who attended grandma Carin's funeral left, while I continued to stand and stare at the ground where she was buried. Some of them tried to talk to me and asked me to go home. But they all failed to convince me, so they left. Everyone left except me. I stood alone in silence. I heard a faint thunder, so I lifted my gaze to the dark sky. As I watched the gloomy clouds, hot tears stung my eyes. It was the rain. I blamed the rain for my grandmother's death. Rain spirits? They were never real—they never existed. Because if they did, they should have saved grandma when the accident happened. I was one of the people who believed in them, so why didn't they save my grandmother's life for me? Grandma Carin... she was my only remaining family. Why was she taken from me? What about me? I felt a few raindrops fall on my cheeks, forehead, and eyes, causing me to close my eyes. Gradually, the raindrops increased, rushing to fall on my body and the dry ground. The sound of the rain hitting the earth only worsened the sorrow I've felt. The cold seeped into my skin with every touch, but I ignored it. The way it lingered on my skin felt inviting—like how I used to dance under the rain; like how I used to laugh as I enjoyed chasing and catching raindrops. If it were any other time, I would have been happy. But all I feel now is pain, anger, and grief. Meow. I lowered my sad eyes. A small orange cat was trying to squeeze itself between my legs. I watched as the trembling cat sought refuge against my warm body. Then I came to realize how frightened he might be because of the rain. I realized he was cold, alone, hungry and had no place to call home. I squatted and scooped the shivering cat into my arms. My lips trembled as I watched the cat snuggle up against my arms. "Are you alone like me?" my voice cracked as I asked. "Do you have no family either?" I choked on my words. The cat purred in my arms, and I felt a lump in my throat. "Because I... have none. I'm the only one left." Tears slowly streamed down my cheeks. My tears flowed endlessly, racing against the raindrops. The stifled sobs suddenly turned into heart-wrenching wails. I cried and cried while holding my cat close to my chest. I cried until my tears mixed with the raindrops and fell to the ground. But my weeping was drowned out by the sound of the rainfall. Now, I understand why some people don't like it when it rains. It reminds them of painful and unpleasant memories. Many lives and livelihoods are disrupted, many people become hungry and sometimes lose their temporary homes. With my eyes closed and a broken heart, I prayed to the heavens... For the rain to go away.