Say 125 And I'm Praying for Rain

As I write this post, the thunder is rumbling in the night sky.  I haven't seen any streaks of lightning, but with all the noise I have to imagine the sky is cut with shards of bright light.

There is no rain here tonight, just a lot of empty promises.

It wan't that way earlier this afternoon.  Another spate of storms rolled through. A lot of noise at first, like so many of the others, but then the softest drops started to fall.  I could smell the wet dust on the driveway and so I found myself looking out the upper story window of my office.

There is a giant cottonwood to the north. It's been a bane for so many years.  In the spring it drops sticky yellow seed coats. Then the cottonwood comes.  For a few weeks during the summer it provides shade, until the really violent storms come and shake all the dead branches loose.  Some fall to the ground, but a good number just hang in the tree waiting to fall.


A lot of the spindly twigs from that tree have fallen onto the roof of the garage.  In the past they haven't been much of a problem.  A good storm, or a good wind blows then into the driveway or lawn.

This spring, they've stayed, along with all the little grassy things that accompany them.

So I'm praying for rain. A really good, strong, heavy downpour.

The gentle rain of the afternoon got a little heavier, a little more intense, but those darn twigs didn't move.  Not a millimeter.  The rain got heavier, and the sky started dropping pea sized hail.  Still no movement of the cottonwood's residue.  Torrents did not arrive to wash that stuff away.

Just past the cottonwood there is a bike path.  The torrent was there, strong enough to rival many flash floods.  We get them on that path especially during the spring thaws and the July monsoons.  For however long the run lasts, the power in that collection of water is terrifying.  It will knock a man over.

Funny, how the same rain water hitting the roof of the garage with little power can collect and become a force that can move large branches and more.

A collected effort is what it is.  Separately, each rain drop has no power to speak of. Collectively, a force to be reckoned with.

We are all so much stronger together.  Support networks are important.  When we have friends and relatives we can count on to have our backs we can leap into the unknown because we know there is a safety net waiting to catch us if needed.

I wonder, how many of us know we have a safety net?  How many of us have actually used such a net?  How many of us are a safety net?  And how many of us are actually a knife or scissors cutting that net apart?

So, a co-worker passed away and they found her body yesterday.  Did she have a support network? Based on the things I read, people clearly cared for her.  But did they know her? Did they know what she was going through, were they there for her?

These are good people.  I like all of the ones I know.  But do any of us really know one another and what our joys and triumphs are, and what our pains and tragedies are? Do we know to ask if someone needs help without any expectation of return?  There are a few people who know mine, but not many.  When I came to work for that company, I was barely talking, my personal pain was so intense.

The woman that left that company was a lot stronger, but not completely healed.  I doubt that will ever come, the wound was so deep.  But, every day I get up I'm a little stronger, the demons and self-doubt have less of a stranglehold.

Of course, the lay off knocked me back a couple of steps.  But, while I haven't bounced back entirely, I'm not where I was three months ago either.

We all need one another. R, K, C, R, C, D, Z, S let's get together soon and bear one another's burdens.  I love you.