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I Want It To Rain

I want it to rain. I want it to pour, to deluge the world. I want to tread water in the tears from heaven that somehow acknowledge in some small way an awareness, something to prove that someone, anyone up there is watching what my wife is enduring.

I want an apology or epiphany from heaven that says having to put your guts in a Ziploc bag to take a shower is cruel and unusual punishment. I want to feel profound, ethereal  sorrow for taking such a vital and intelligent woman and forcing her into this quality of life. I want to hear an admission that this is a mortal sin.

Next week is Holy Week. I’d love to see Holy Week, but I’d be thrilled just to live through Healthy Week, or even maybe Happy Week, if it exists. Yeah, Holy Week, pardon my profoundly underwhelming endorsement.

In these last two years I’ve learned that “mercy” is a word in the dictionary. It’s one of those big words I seldom have a use for lately along with “break”, “laughter”, and “can’t-we-just-knock-this-crap-off-yet”.

Yeah, I want it to rain. I want it to rain to the depth that Noah is looking for the keys to the boat. I want something from up above that says what we’re doing down below is not as isolated, as lonely and compassionless as it sometimes feels.

I want it to rain.


3 Responses to “I Want It To Rain”

  1. […] of my closest friends are suffering right […]

  2. BFrederick says:

    I don’t know you or your wife. But my thoughts and energy are with you for today. I hope it makes a small difference – you are not alone and I know that there are people around you who care. .

  3. Dan says:

    The searing emotion in this post really moved me, a total stranger. Fuck cancer. I wish cancer were human so I could kick it in the balls.

    Best wishes for you and your wife.

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