rain, rain, don't go away

I've always hated the rain. In fact, I hate "weather." I revel in the absence of "weather;" I only, only, appreciate sun and heat. Give me 105 degrees and a UV index of 9 any day and I'm thrilled. But, today as I trudged through the rain to the subway, crying on the inside that I had THREE MORE BLOCKS to walk, I thought about a conversation that I had a few weekends ago with Emily and Billie. We were in DC for Clare and Molly's marathon, that they ran in memory of Lindsay with LLS Team in Training (and were absolutelyyy amazing and inspirational of course!). The day before the marathon it was, of course, not just raining, but some crazy combination of hail/snow/sleet/impending doom. This prompted a discussion of how it has seemed to rain on nearly every important day of the past few months, ranging from the extremely important planned outdoor parties, to Emily's half marathon. But the first, and most prominent day of the past few months that it's rained, was on Lindsay's funeral. We discussed how the rain on all of these days, days that Lindsay's presence was so strongly felt, must be Lindsay's way of reminding us that she's here with us. I'm not necessarily the most spiritual person, but I definitely believe that Lindsay's here, raining on all of our parties and crawfish boils, reminding us that she's always here in spirit for the important, and most absolutely for the fun times. (Fortunately she was considerate enough to make her presence known the day before Molly and Clare's marathon and allow it to be a perfect sunny fall day for the actual race.)

So Linds, today, although I was forced to trade my leather jacket for a rain coat and my studded booties for rain boots, as I felt my straight hair get soaked and frizzy as the wind blew away both my umbrella and hood, my standard frustration with rain definitely fizzled. I felt like you were here with me, and I definitely didn't hate the rain. I'm not going to say I love the rain now (wouldn't want to get carried away here), but today, feeling like you were here with me, stomping through puddles with your perfectly not-frizzy hair (lest not forget that night in the Shooter's bathroom), was comforting, and provided some much needed happiness and warmth on a particularly dreary day.

Infinite love and kisses to my most flawless of friends, LAR.

xxxx,

Zwill