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The thought of the rain


Anarion

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Would like to share this with you guys. original.gif

Walking down the dark alleyways just after midnight, he could remember the lanes at the back of his head. He was familiar with the smell of the pile up discarded food by restaurants, spilling out of the rubbish bins. The squeaking rats rumbling among bags of rubbish, in search for food. Like any other day, these walks will be interrupted by the screams of neighbours shouting at him, “ Shut your baby up! For heaven’s sake! We are trying to get some sleep.”

He was annoyed by the cries of his beloved baby but he felt helpless, there was nothing he could do. Preventing from waking his housemates, who needs to get some rest from a hard day work, he opts for these regular walks down the alleyways. Holding the baby in his arms, he tried to claim the little one down by rocking her slowly, against his chest. “ Hush now, my dear one, please I beg of you,” he pleaded his six months old daughter, who was warmly wrapped up in a wollen towel.

It was a cold winter night, howling winds were blowing in his direction. Loose rubbish such as plastic bags that were light enough to be lifted by the wind, were blowing into his face, disturbing his sight, frustrating him further. The rain came so suddenly that caught him by surprise. He ran for cover under the nearest shelter. Seeking shelter under a little aluminum roof, which only covers the back door of a restaurant, there was hardly enough room for another soul.

Ensuring his child was warm enough, he checked that the wollen towel was securely keeping the baby wrapped up. He fumbled across the locket hanging around the child’s neck. Unlocking the heart shape sliver locket with a slight push of his thumb, a black and white photograph of a beautiful familiar face smiled back at him.

Sweet memories warmed his heart. “Was it you that send the rain?” he whispered to the lady in the photograph. It was a picture of his wife, the mother of the baby held closely in his arms. While most people would be gloomy by the sight of rain, Sarah loved it. He remembered her refusing to be shelter by an umbrella, running out into the rain. She would be at her happiest when the rain comes. He proposed to her in the rain. The day they got married, it was raining. He once asked Sarah why did she like the rain so much. “ It washes away your fear and worries.” She smiled replying.

With that thought, he stepped away from the shelter and headed for the rain with his baby in his arms. Lifting his head up to the sky, he welcomed the cold drops onto his face. He could relate to the coldness of the rain, which was the same feeling deep down inside him. It did not seem to wash away his fear. It definitely did not take away his worries. He had mix feelings, sadness, anger, confusion and feeling of despair. Kneeling down on his knees as the only form of support, he cried silently. The only thing the rain did wash away were the tears that rolled down his eyes.

I was that baby in my father’s arm. My father, Fenson lost his wife to childbirth difficulties when conceiving me. Thirty years had passed since my mother was dead. Growing up under his care was one of the most precious things I thanked the Lord for. Although I have never experience motherly love, I felt completed, as my father had played both the roles of being a father and a mother very well.

The only things I know about my mother, I learned it from the man I respected most. When I was much younger, I was really afraid of the thunder and rain. I would run up to my father for comfort, who would then remind me, “Silly child, it’s only mummy saying hello to us.” As time passed, I began to realised that father would stared out he window whenever it rains. Thoughts must be going through his head as he lit cigarettes after cigarettes. I hated rainy days because it would make my father so upset every single time.

Today was the first time that he actually smiled when the rain came. “ It must be your mother.” Tears rolled down my eyes as father mumbled. We were in the hospital; I was at his deathbed. He was lying down on the bed as he turned his head towards the window and saw what used to make him gloomy. “ The next time you see the rain, don’t be as sad as I used to be. Be happy for me. I will be reunited with your mum in heaven. Remember to look up to the sky and smile.” His last breaths were those words.

The rain must have reminded my mother of some beautiful memories. It causes heartache for my father having to remind him of his lost wife whom he must have loved deeply. As for me, I not only smile at the heaven when it rains. Staring up into the sky is good enough to remind me that my parents are happy together now.

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