Oh, reader. It has been so so so so so very long since we had a real, honest-to-goodness gullywashing rain in south Mississippi and when the news said we could expect downpours and storms all week, I actually yipped with happiness. If you’ve been reading here for any amount of time you know my feelings about cold, rainy days spent with good music and lamp light. I put on my green wellies and yellow rain jacket this morning and waited all day with bated breath for the rain. 5:30 came and went without a drop, just the most blustery winds I’ve ever seen. I took chicken fried rice and steamed vegetables to my dear old friend, Hope, since she and her husband Jonathan welcomed a baby boy a few days ago. I sat on the floor of the nursery while she told me all about her life since he was born. And it felt like coming home.
We’ve been friends since we were children, and were inseparable through high school and college. A bond like ours isn’t changed by time apart, and that’s one of God’s great blessings. We’re both so busy and hardly ever see each other anymore, but nothing changes. Not really. I will always feel safe in our old friendship, like I could show up at her door any time day or night. I could sit on the floor and eat Lo mein and talk about how weird life is becoming. I could ask questions about how it feels to be someone’s mama. Which she is very good at so far.
Ben and I met back at the mercantile to keep at it until we were satisfied with the day’s work. The sign is almost finished. We are getting close to opening. But still, no rain.
And then the rain finally came. And it brought the sweetest, rumbling shush with it.