6 Comments

The Dying Rain

I read this great post: Perfect Ending To A Day

It touched me….

It’s amazing how things can move you….isn’t it?
rain5
The rain began to patter on the window that looked out over my best friend’s small garden.

I was holding her frail hand, the one with her “green thumb”.

I smile at this…

She always giggled when she told me that she could kill a plastic plant…

But now her eyes were closed, her breath labored.

….. today was a good day for her.

She may have been asleep but her fingers gripped mine as hard as she could squeeze.

I could barely tell I was holding her hand at all as weak as she was.

It’s so painful to imagine strength draining away from the strongest person you have ever known.
….sand in an hourglass.

I laced my fingers thru hers, gripping them a little harder, tracing the veins on the back of her hand with my other fingers.

I can’t believe I’m losing her….

My bestest friend in the whole world is dying………Dying!rain3

[RUMBLE]

I can hear the thunder in the distance, the rain coming and going, the branches of the trees scraping lightly across the panes of glass

In the storm gray light of the small bedroom I turn back into time to think of our lives together.

I have done this more than usual lately….

Six months…..

Too fast…

…..Way too damn fast.

Doesn’t it seem weird that when you are about to lose someone close to your heart, a piece of your very soul, that we start to reflect on our memories of them more, as if though trying to burn them deeper into our hearts and minds….

It’s as if though we are afraid that we might forget something important….forget them?

I look at her face as she sleeps….

She’s so beautiful……..even now.

My flower is fading….rain7

The sun is leaving her eyes.

The rain reminds me that I must not cry……

Cloud tears trickle down, the beads of cloud diamonds ornamenting her window…..

I won’t weep…..Not now at least, she gets upset when I cry.

I sit there, holding my friends tiny hand, staring out the jeweled window as the storm drums the shutters.

The lightning is bright, the thunder is closer….the rain, more insistent…..

I am on memory lane, it isn’t raining here.

There is only laughter, joy and our high school prom.

There is only skinned knees, gum in our hair and boyfriends we shared.rain4

I am brought back from my breaking heart to the bedside when I feel her stir under the blankets….
Her eyes are open…

She is looking out the window, watching the storm.

Shadows of the window panes, rain drops and lightning dance across her face…..

She is quiet….Still.

Oh so still…..

I notice a small tear is running down her pale cheek and across her dry lips…

I reach up and wipe the tear away with my finger.

She grabs my hand and presses it to her lips and then….she drops my hand with a tired sigh.

She turns her face toward me….dream9

I raise my finger to my lips and kiss what’s left of her tear….

She gives me that shy grin of hers and turns back to the storm.

“Will you do me a favor?” she asks in her beautiful, weak voice.

“I don’t know” I say “I’m kinda busy” I grin.

She squeezes my hand again before turning to look at me, her gaze imploring.

“I’m serious” She says.

My face softens, I will not cry….

“You bet” I whisper, both my hands pressing hers to show my promise.

She turns her face back toward the window as the rain dances across the roof, the thunder making the panes tremble….

She says “Think of me when it storms….”rain6

I cannot cry in front of her….

My best friend in life is slipping away like a dream, like water thru my fingers….

“I hope it rains forever” I say….

Her eyes are closed now…

Her fingers relaxed in mine….

Her heart has finished its toil.

She has gone from me into the storm….

She lives where lightning is born now….rain8

Life continues as memory….

I can cry now.

I will dance in the rain with the memory of my friend, and we will laugh…

I rejoice in the fact that as long as I live, she will be there with me.

She will watch my children grow.

She will watch our children become best friends.

It is time for me to weep for my lovely…

I can already hear her voice in my head…

“Cry baby”

I smile….

rain1It’s true….

She’s here…..right now.

About treyzguy

I am so full of self-confidence and crap that I would worship myself against my own will.... Under penalty of death.

6 comments on “The Dying Rain

  1. heartbreaking . . . reminds me of a friend who passed.

  2. This brought tears to my eyes. Simply beautiful and heart wrenching.

  3. Need a tissue now. Beautiful.

Penny for your thoughts (we won't resell them)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Horror4Me

Journalism so good... it's scary.

transcribingmemory

Decades of her words.

J and I Publishing

Creative Color Book Publications

Tony Flye

Author

Everything Indie

Supporting Indie Authors with Tips, Reviews, and Services

frankalrich

Community manager for ReviewCreep.com - Exposure Platform for Wordpress Review Bloggers

Barbarian Writer

A Story For The Æons

Five.

Five true stories, every five weeks.

You Knew What I Meant

Errors and Intentions

Koreanish

Alexander Chee

harm·less drudg·ery

defining the words that define us

Bending Genre

Essays on Creative Nonfiction

Antariksh Yatra

Journeys in Space, Time and the Imagination

The Task at Hand

A Writer's On-Going Search for Just the Right Words

Mashed Radish

everyday etymology

rottenindenmark.wordpress.com/

Is this gentleman bothering you?

Cuaderno Inédito

Notes & advice for writers & editors by Julie Schwietert Collazo.

%d bloggers like this: