A new season, spring, is starting to begin. The season brings new weather, and beauty that we haven't seen in a while. The very idea of it triggers memories that we have forgotten, both good and bad. Our memories are like the seasons: as we grow, we reflect on them by how we react. We smile at the sun (the good memories), or hide away from the depths of the snow (the bad memories). Memories are a personal item to us that can't be changed, except by how we look at them. For me, when spring appears with the rain, I picture a memory of my sister and I running through the rain.
The memory starts when we had to sneak outside and back inside without letting anyone know. Our father was asleep in his chair in the living room, and our mother wasn't home. We descended the stairs quietly to the front door, trying to make no sounds, and being careful not to wake our father. The door had to be opened and closed slowly, so the sound of its creaking wouldn't be heard.
Once we got outside, the rain was pouring down quickly, but not as hard, making the road ahead of us blurry. We ran out in the front yard, barefooted, and screaming with delight. We would run in circles, twirl on the slick grass, and jump with enthusiastic energy. At one point, we stuck our tongues out, trying to catch the liquid of sweet water, and it reminds me of the song "Sweet Refreshment" that we sing on Easter Sundays at church.
After a while, we went under our favorite tree where we siblings met a lot. There, we decided it was time to go back inside and to get cleaned up. We needed to hide the evidence of the grass sticking to our legs as well as why we were soaked to the bone.
In the end, my sister takes me up to the bathroom before our mother gets home. I can't recall if we both got cleaned, or if I was the only one who did. I don't even remember if we got in trouble or not.
Either way, it doesn't change the fact of how precious that moment is to me. When April comes with the rain, I sometimes find myself running in it, and thinking of my sister running their next to me. The memory reflects of who I am today, which is someone who loves the simple parts of life, such as rain and family.
Overall, we all have memories that we hold dear to us, maybe even by the seasons. By how the wind changes courses, the memories might get swept away, but they usually come back with the same purpose. Teaching us of who we were, how we are today, and what we could become in the future.
