Quick addition

There is a child in my building that is 'singing' at the top of their lungs,
"Rain, rain, go away
I wanna play
Come again today
Rain rain go away"
on and on. Just that one part. With the 'wrong' words.

The sound of children scream-singing at a rainstorm makes me remember there is something out there, something universal that connects us all. Something that makes us the same yet different. Some 20 years ago, I would sit on my back porch and scream-sing about rain going away and coming again some other day, and while it's a common song, it's just a reminder that this world is huge, but it's so small at the same time. The sky is clearing up, giving the city that creepy yellow-green light that comes after we've just been dumped on hardcore.

The kid is still singing. I am almost crying. Amazing. I've lived through more than two years of thunderstorms at this apartment, and I've heard this child scream-singing for those two years after each one, but there is something about the one today that is really affecting me. Maybe it's because I know my thunderstorms between these walls is limited now. I have a hard time letting go of some things, and this apartment is one of them. Don't get me wrong, I am SO excited about the move and living with Steve and saving money and starting our lives together, but this apartment has some powerful memories tucked in the walls. It's the last home Patty and Ethel knew. It's the place where they were put to sleep with their mommy holding them. It's the bedroom where I found out about Mike, mom crying on the phone in the house with his body in the next room, on the phone with me. It's the first time I have lived by myself for the right reason, the right motive; to become independant and self-aware. It's the home where I first learned I was accepted back to school, where I came after my first rehearsal for Boomstick. The energies in these walls is wonderful and has protected me during some of my hardest life moments. Maybe that's why hearing a child scream-singing through my back door is making me tear up.

It's a very good sadness......