The Storm That Felt My Heart While Expressing It With Me.

The perceived connection between rain and death.

Who knows that the sky can share your tears as well as, if not better than a close friend?

Weather storms can be a thrill to experience as long as the damage they create doesn’t have a direct effect. The strong wind can motivate one to move faster. The hard hits of water on your skin can cleanse your emotions better than soapy shower water. The chill of wetness that soaks deep past the protective barrier of clothing can push one into finding real change.

Thunderstorms have always thrilled me. They drive me to celebrate the strong energy nature shares with us all. That big boom heard when the sky is at work sorting out its energy can let you know that your ears do hear sounds but your body can actually feel them.

I’ve enjoyed many storms in my short walk on the globe of Earth. I have felt many storms with my body, however, feeling the storm with your heart is possible too. What has amazed me the most is the day I realized the storm can feel and express our hearts with us!

This may sound a tad bit odd to some. The idea that a weather pattern can be in tune with a human heart is a strange concept to grasp. Be it strange or not, I can say it is a glorious event to experience.

To explain this theory I will tell you first that my awareness of the rain appearing at prominent times in my life got me thinking about the connection that I noticed with rain and death.

At age 49 I consider myself blessed to have endured minimal loss of loved ones this far out into my Earth journey. There has been loss though and I believe the rain expresses my heart with me in those times.

In my experience, the rain has always made an appearance when a loved one passes. I’m convinced this is not a coincidence. I have questioned myself on this subject. I noticed with each loss that I endure I see this fact cannot be denied.

The passing of my Grandma was my first hard hit with physical death. Her passing pushed me into growth I didn’t know that I could do. We placed her in the garden ground three days after she passed.

That happened the first week of March in North America. Snow and ice covered the ground everywhere. Digging a grave was something we were told initially, may have to wait until spring. Then suddenly without notice the sun came on strong for two days and provided a window for the burial to occur.

We stood at her grave watching the box drop slowly into the ground. The ice patches on the ground were slippery and the snow banks were still very high. The temperature was hanging out at 34 degrees Fahrenheit which is just above freezing.

As we stood there at her grave site feeling sad and cold the rain began to slowly drop gentle drips of water on us all. I was amazed to see rain in the month of March. Especially the first week of March.

As we said a prayer of thanks to the creator of all the Grandest Grandma’s in the world, the rain remained steady. It continued in that way until we drove away from the graveyard that I call a garden.

Minutes down the road with tear filled eyes I began to see the light from the bright sun return as the rain stopped. Tissues were still in use but the car wipers were no longer needed.

The rain that day was a treasured gift. It helped me to remain grounded in the physical realm while yearning for more than life that involves death. I pondered the idea that my Grandma could be sharing some tears with me but I knew in my heart that all of her tears were already gone.

As time ticked on more deaths crossed my path. With each death, the rain appeared three days after the passing. Each rainfall was different in the intensity of the raindrop and the strength of the wind. The color of the sky had no consistency with any of these deaths either. The rain has remained the only consistent factor.

My Mother-in-law passed away in the month of October. That is a month that does have rain. Sometimes October sees snow too in North America. The day we placed her into the garden was a day of sunshine and warmth. No rain was in the forecast for that day or week.

We stood there in that garden wearing warm weather attire, watching the grim sight of her box being lowered into the ground. Tears were dropping from all the faces when out of the sunfilled sky came those gentle raindrops.

The rain dropped softly through the sunshine. It was a warm rain that only appeared during the drop of the box. It barely wet the ground. The gentle breeze made no sound. Once that first shovel of dirt hit the box the rain went away and the sunshine remained bright in the sky.

There was a recall of my Grandma’s burial and the rain that gave me such comfort. I pondered the idea that there may be a connection to this rain and death matching that I was experiencing.

I concluded that my mind was on overload and my emotions wanted more than life and death to be the story. Then it happened. My husband, the father of my four children, the man who took my heart on a super wild ride and showed me the depth of it- passed on from this realm.

Never in my life had I felt that kind of ripping in my soul. The Earth felt empty now with him gone. His strength went with him when he left this globe and I felt the weakness of life all around me.

Every emotion known to humans was stirring wild in my soul. The anger was large. The pain was larger. Any ability to function that I may have once had left when he did. Pure despair, anger, and emptiness filled my soul. I cried without ceasing for plenty more than three days.

Did it rain? It certainly did. It stormed so fiercely that I know the atmosphere shared my anger. Three days after his passing a full seven-day week of non-stop thunderstorms complete with damaging winds swept across our region as if to do my bidding for me.

No sunshine made an appearance. It was so dark day and night that light lamps were needed no matter the hour.

I had already cried out loud without ceasing for so long that my strength had left me and my health was heading out with it too. What I felt was something I could barely comprehend. I had exhausted the strength to express it.

I was becoming lethargic, and dysfunctional, with only pain to feel and no words for expression. My loud angry groans had turned into deep angry moans. There was no strength left in me unless it was to wipe my swollen face with tissues.

Then boom- The third day that storm took over for me. The storm felt like his soul doing a grand sweep across the region. It looked that way too. Not any of nature was singing with chirps of joy. All of nature was swinging and swaying with the same anger I felt but had no strength left to express.

The trees were bent over with despair as much as I was. The wild animals took shelter for protection from the destruction happening all around.

Darkness covered every single thing that should have been covered in sunlight. Wind howling louder than my cries insisted for days. The storm gave a whistle that sliced through my tired soul deep enough to grant more tears.

The powerful strike of a pure blue light hitting whatever was in its way showed me that even the atmosphere was as angry as I was. Small bits of comfort came from the hard hits of thunder as I knew the storm was trashing all it touched with anger the way I wished I could.

Night and day the storm raged on without a pause in strength. The Earth shook with each hard hit the storm provided. Water poured down in heavy streams as if the cloud faucets were thrashing from left to right and back again filling every hole and empty space with ice cold water. There was no shut-off in sight. We lived for days without the sunlight.

Roads became streams of muddy water, and walking around without shelter provided danger of a high degree. Tree limbs were flying freely in the sky where birds should have been. The only electricity available was chaotically splashing the sky and hitting whatever it pleased with destruction.

Resting finally happened for me as I let that storm do my expressing with me. When woken from the shake of the Earth and pounding of the heavy hard water, I found I was able to let the storm rage on for me as I rested more in its anger.

Knowing the atmosphere was in tune with my soul's pain let me rest in that anger as the storm did my work. Letting the storm do the damage for me was a pleasant perk.

It is true that loss can cause pain and anger. If you are a human you probably know that loss is no stranger.

Water is life and energy is real power. Without either of them, no man can build a tower.

So build that tower high and strong. We can pray that it will last super long.

When that tower falls, that's when life stalls and every emotion tied to it calls…

Put up the walls, knock short all the Talls,

and tell me please, who really has the balls to fight the strength of angry nature squalls?

Thanks to love, life, and thunderstorms we are all able to feel what we cannot hear or say.

Thanks to Sahil Patel for publishing this Nature Column in the Reciprocal and for providing the Thrilling Thunderstorm Prompt that inspired this true story to be written.

More great story reading can be discovered in this Nature Column found published in the Reciprocal by Authors who know and love nature, such as:

Scot Butwell who advises us on what to do with a restless heart…

Jenn Brownell gave us a nice poem to enjoy…