The last few days have been rainy and grey. When sitting in our living room, you don’t really notice it except for a faint pitter-patter coming from our bedroom window. At night, though, as I settle into bed, the rain is amplified as it beats against the side of the apartment. I love it. It reminds me of when I was little and my family would travel in our camper for a week or two in the summer to nearby states like Montana or South Dakota. The summer rainstorms were the best at those times. Our little family of four would gather around the camper’s small square table and play board games late into the night. When it was finally time for bed, the table converted into a cushioned sleeping area for my brother, and the cabinets above folded down into a bunk for me, only about two feet from the ceiling. My dad would lift me up for me to crawl into my sleeping bag. He would then fasten the safety net so my little body wouldn’t fall out. I remember these summer nights where the rain bounced off of the roof of the camper just above my head. The sound was so comforting, along with the knowledge of my big brother sleeping just below me and my parents several more feet away. The sounds are a memory, one that I am taken back to when I hear the rain pound on my bedroom window.
The sound has also provided me with new memories. Connor and I sit on the bed staring at each other with facial expressions full of excitement. We love the stormy weather. We know that instead of the machine-made white noise, mother nature will lull us to sleep tonight.
It’s interesting to think about the things that trigger memories. I feel like all week I have been in zombie-mode, going through the motions to get things done. But it’s definitely the smaller things that matter the most and keep us going each day during times like these.
Happy Sunday, I hope everyone has a great new week!