Summer Storm

While I sit here in the dark as a summer storm rages outside, I ponder the ebb and flow of grief as it relates to the storm itself.

First is the notice that something is wrong - the change in color and feel of the air and sky around you. With the first clap of thunder, the event has started and emotions begin roiling in the atmosphere. As the storm gathers steam, people and animals run for cover, much like we run for comfort - something to help shelter us from the news we've just received or the event we've just witnessed.

The rain comes, pelting everything in its path hard enough to leave little dents in the sand or splash marks on the pavement. Like tears, the drops start as one or two but quickly become a downpour. The accompanying whimpers or wails mimic the thunder in the sky - louder now and closer together. Flashes of lightening produce angry energy, lashing out of the heavens in huge bolts that wreck the curtain of clouds like a toddler throwing his arms in a fit or a grown up tearing at her hair in the passion of her loss.

The rain continues on, sometimes slowing to drizzle then picking up again as if fresh memories turned the faucet handle anew. Slowly, the thunder gets softer and less urgent, the lightening less bright and fierce. There may be a few fresh downpours, last claps of noise and bright flashes but slowly, gently the storm loses steam over time. Soon, you don't even realize that the rain has stopped until the bright sun peeks through the gray curtain and perks the world up again.

Grief seems to do much the same. For a while it is fresh, almost tangible in strength as if your insides were literally ripped out of your torso. Episodes of anger, tears and heartbreaking pain cycle through the body causing one to audibly cry and mourn.

Slowly, gently, over time, the pain gets less noticeable, the tears dry and laughter escapes like a bubble under water. One day, everything seems clear and bright - almost normal. The storm passes, the world gets brighter again and life moves on. The only reminder is an occasional drop of rain from a roof edge, the scab on the lightening scarred tree and the rainbow that graces the sky.