Angel’s Tears
A rainbow never feels insecure or unloved, a rainbow is like a butterfly. We often undermine the extravagance it takes to metamorphoses from something ugly to something beautiful. I suppose this is why I despise rainbows. They take all of the credit for something the rain helped create, they do not have to try to be beautiful, they just are. No one ever appreciates the underlying contribution rain makes in order for the rainbow to be as beautiful as it is; we are naïve to think that the rainbow naturally started that way. No one starts that way, it is inconsiderate of the rest of mankind for something to start off so perfect.
All good memories for me start with rain and end when the rainbow hits. Maybe it is just coincidental but I choose to believe that it is a blessing from the angels. My mom always used to tell me that when it was raining it was the angels crying from heaven; whether they were happy tears or sad tears we do not know but either way it is beautiful and it provided me with a sense of ease.
One memory that distinctly stood out to me was when I had just returned from a trip to London, England to visit my family. Living in Calgary we do not get a lot of rain so I believe that my appreciation for rain began there. When I was around seven years old I had a pooh bear umbrella with a blue handle shaped as a honey pot. When it began to rain I walked outside with my umbrella and a big blanket and I sat in the rain admiring it’s beauty. For once my head was clear and I felt content and unrestricted. It takes a lot to make me feel unconstrained but at that moment, something as simple as rain made me feel free.
This became a habit for me, one that I am not ashamed of because while rain is under appreciated by so many it allows me to be the exception. Loving the ugly more than the beautiful makes me different and unique. People are just not open to defying social expectations; even with something simple as rain.
For me it is never about the rainbow at the end of the rain. It is about appreciating the journey that rain takes before the rainbow ends the tears.
So can we not see rain as a blessing from the sky? Or when you watch the rain chase each other down the windows, how are you not invested in that race? How can you not be mesmerized by the personality that the rain displays? How can you not be thankful for angels tears?
