Of a rainy, golden afternoon…

It’s not raining anymore.

I wasn’t actually aware that it rained at all this afternoon, because over the sounds of the TV I was watching in Dylan’s room and the family I could hear in the front room, I couldn’t have heard the rain unless I stepped outside to greet it.

But right now, on the back patio after the dogs have eaten, it’s like a tranquil afterglow. The sun hasn’t set yet but bathes the neighborhood in a soft golden light, caught in the beads of water that cling to the porch screen. It’s so quiet that I can hear where the water drips to the concrete, and I welcome it as a sound of companionship. The rain has made it muggy, humid—or maybe that’s just south Texas in the summer—but a refreshingly cool breeze carries the leftover scent of rain and of earth, two elements, wrapped in a third, that we can’t live without.

I used to dislike whenever it rained. I’m not quite sure when that changed—maybe whenever I read a quote somewhere about rain being the writer’s lullaby. Now, more often than not, I wish for days I might be able to spend in my bedroom, warmly lit by the lamp next to my bed, writing, with a cup of coffee at hand and rain thundering down outside my window.

On days when I do have to leave the house, which is also more often than not, and commute an hour to Houston, rain is not quite as welcome, and when I checked the weather earlier this week it was supposed to be rainy all week long. I don’t think it rained at all yesterday, and today, it didn’t look like it was going to. But it did.

I’m kind of glad for it.


My dear Dylan,

To some extent, I don’t even know what to say. I actually have a post written for you already, but it doesn’t feel like it’s right anymore. I improvised this morning with breakfast, so I guess I’m going to improvise now, too, and see what happens. That’s all life really is, anyway, isn’t it? Merely a day to day improvisation…🤔 (Insert here a comment from you about me being philosophical and existential again…)

I’m glad that we got to have breakfast together today, and that you were able to relax a little before going to work. It is your birthday, after all, it’s your special day!

I don’t need to tell you I love you for you to know, but I will anyway. (I kind of just did.) I don’t need to tell you that I’m proud of you, because you know that, but sometimes you just need to hear it, and I know you have had a lot on your mind lately. Which is understandable…a lot has happened in the past year. Let’s look…

Definitely the biggest and most ongoing change is the one with pretty brown eyes, four legs, and a tail…and she’s…I’d like to say she’s stretched out at my feet while I’m in your chair, but the truth is she was here and now I have no idea when she snuck out or where exactly she went (though I’d put money on the backyard). Typical. I know we adopted her closer to the end of July last year than the beginning of August, but it still counts, and you and I both know that no matter what, you wouldn’t give her up for anything. Nor would she you, honestly.

After that, everything else doesn’t seem as detailed or…there doesn’t seem to be as much to it, because your (our) emotions are wrapped up in her, and I can just simply list everything else and then step away from it, more detached. (Does that make sense to you? I’m not sure if it’s one of those things that makes more sense in my head than it does out of it… I’m sorry. I’m feeling a little out of it, and I had a cup of coffee, but I don’t think it’s enough to make me feel 100% better today.) Still…


  • earned and walked for your Bachelor’s degree
  • sold one car (finally)
  • bought another car that’s fully paid for
  • landed a full-time job, with benefits

…and I know that you’re still not completely where you probably need to be, definitely where you would like to be, in your life, but you have come quite a ways. And I’m just going to leave that at that—though I do hope you can stop thinking about everything else just long enough to enjoy the rest of your birthday. Even though you’re at work now, it’s still your day.

I hope I was able to make this morning special for you. I wasn’t sure about improvising, and I think you know that I probably never am. Because I always want it to be perfect for you, but maybe the perfection lives in the effort and not in the result. In the day to day effort (struggle) of everything.


❤︎ Happy birthday, honey. ❤︎