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Grandma, It's Raining

Grandma, It's Raining…

My grandma and I did this thing,

We both loved that moment when summer started blending into fall

The moment it was cool enough to cut off the air conditioner

And warm enough to open the windows.

And it wasn't just one window, it was all the windows

"It feels so good to air out the house"

I still can hear her say.

But today, today it started raining,

And my windows were open, but not just one window

All my windows because you see, summer started blending into fall

And it really does feel so good to air out my apartment.

So with all of my windows open it started to rain,

Not just sprinkling, but the good rain.

The rain that you just listen to,

The rain that you hear each drop hitting the ground

The rain that the thunder rumbles and roles

The rain that the trees leaves look like their blowing because the rain keeps dropping and dropping, and dropping.

On days like this, I would call my grandma and say,

"Grandma, it's raining,"

And her response although so simple would mean the world to me,

"It feels so good doesn't it?"

My grandma understood that the rain and the air both meant the same thing.

They both meant new beginnings, growth and change, a reminder that we can be refreshed, cleaned again, washed anew.

In a incredibly bittersweet moment I realize although I can't call you, Grandma;

I call on you Grandma,

So as I sit feeling the air on my skin and hearing the rain hit the ground,

with tears in my eyes and turning my face to the sky,

Grandma, it's raining.

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