No matter what we have gone through in life, some memories can never be forgotten or erased from the tablet of our mind, because yet have already become part of us and embedded in our soul.
Well, mine all started on a wet and cozy evening when the sky went dark partially and decided to bless us with its cry.
It was when I was a bit still young in our family house during my grandmother's birthday before she passed away. The house was filled with some of his children and his grandchildren even though it was a bit quiet, everyone had already gone to their rooms after the heavy party that happened earlier. But I was with my father and younger brother in the balcony of the house, eating some cakes that was left as we stepped it down with non alcoholic grape wine, I could remember my dad telling me to go easy on the cake so that I will not be purging later, you know how sweet these cakes can be sometimes, but I kept on eating like it was my last but nothing happened to me. Then it was like the heavens were also craving for some sweet chocolate cakes themselves, the atmospheric weather suddenly changed, the cool breeze started blowing so fast and loud that we had no choice than to step in.
As the rain began to pour heavily, I do not know what came over me, I stood up, decided to off my clothes but I was left with a boxers, took of my Ben 10 slippers and decided to run inside the rain. My father had gone to the room this time to rest, I heard my mum shouting my name for me to come inside as to not feel cold and to avoid thunder strike, you know how these mothers can be sometimes. The way she was calling my name send alert to other kids in the house which made them joined me after the saw how I was running around in the rain with so much excitement. I wished they took pictures of us that time for memory sake.
Even though our parents were like telling us to come inside and be careful so that we will not fall, the look on their faces was like they should also join too, but I guess adulthood will not allow them.
In that moment, I saw all the kids having fun like I influenced them, we were all free as a child that we were. And writing this post, and remembering that lovely memory, it made me realise that we were young and happy and grief had nothing over our joy as we sang very loud even though some of our voices were cracking as our feet splashed water as we stepped on puddles a sign of our rebellion against being sorrowful.
That particular day made we to realize that joy is not the absence of pain it is the decision that we make to go through it. As we all stepped in smiling, we did not talk much, some went back to their rooms while those of us in the sitting room decided to cover ourselves with a very thick blanket given to us by grandma as we shared a bowl of very hot Amala and Ewedu soup. But in all of us, something had shifted, the silence that we felt after the birthday celebrations no longer sounds like absence of nobody in the house, but total peace and unity.
Now, when the rain drops almost everytime and now that it is a rainy season in my country, I tend to remember that lovely moment and sometimes, I stepped outside if I am not too busy. Not because I miss the moment less, but because I remember it more. That shared memories with all the kids together, a solemn reminder of love of being young forever.
And this memory alone was not about the rainy day, even though we were cautioned not to enter it, it was the day that my heart learnt that even the the rain can bring us together.
Thank you for reading.
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