Into each life a little rain must fall someone once said. That someone failed to define what “little” meant and to how hard the rain would fall. This person also failed to take into account that some rain is, well, frozen and not nearly as pleasant as the liquid form. But we all get the idea that regardless of the form, at some point we must accept that not everything will be all sunshine and perfection.
Except sunshine and I don’t get along all that well these days it seems. Not that rain and I are great friends, because we aren’t. Not in any form of rain for that matter. It’s not the rain’s fault really any more than it’s the sun’s fault. These things are just hanging out and doing whatever it is that they do. (I am sure I learnt this all once in school, but in the ever-shrinking space that is my brain I have suddenly forgot much of this.) And yet, I can’t quite place my finger on what exactly, but it seems that there is some reason why they both want to visit me.
And when I say visit, I mean inflict pain. I’m not talking about the little pelting that happens with freezing rain. Nor am I talking about the way a heavy rain, coming down at an angle seems to cut right into you as it beats you with tiny pinpricks of cold water. Nor am I talking about that radiant pain of sunburn that happens when you spend far too much time out in the sun with no protection. No my friends I’m not talking about the basics that we all face in life.
You see just as my lupus has changed what I see as “normal”, my reaction to these lovely entities, both the sun and the rain, has changed too. I used to like a gentle warm rain as much as the next person. Well if the next person liked gentle warm rains. I also enjoyed watching a heavy downpour cross the sky and give way to brilliant blue sky with the golden sun shining again. I used to love the sun, sitting in the warmth of it while reading or playing some game. I could be in the sun from sunrise in those gentle pastels to the brilliant sphere of the afternoon and then the vibrant sunsets. And other than the odd burn I was fine.
But now both of these dear friends cause me great pain. I cringe when I see the weather forecast calling for hours of rain. I check the chance of precipitation as if it were my stock portfolio. I plan my day around this sometimes. I used to get up and go so to speak, now I gather my sunscreen and slather it on like it’s a basting sauce. Then I pack it up either in a bag or toss it in my purse because just like a basting sauce it must be reapplied. The end result is that I no longer have a tan, at any time of the year, no matter where I go. No tan at all.
And as much as my relationship with the rain and the sun has changed, I cannot imagine a life without them. No matter how much I moan and carry on at times about my frustrations and pain levels, the truth is I still have a soft spot for both of these. I just need to get myself to change how I think about them once more