The Next Storm

My son's first track meet of the season was beginning in a couple of hours, and I stood in front of my bathroom mirror getting ready. As I put on my makeup and dried my hair, my eyes kept drifting down to the reflection of my shirt. One word in particular captured my attention. "MOM" it said in large yellow letters across my chest.

Mom.

Today, that was all I wanted to be. Mom. I didn't want to even think about my other roles: teacher, sister, daughter, friend. All I wanted to be was a proud mom cheering on her son. I prayed desperately that the screaming crowd would be able to drown out all the troubling thoughts that rumbled through my brain, and all I would have to think about was my son's feet pounding around the track.

Glancing out the window, I hoped that the weatherman's prediction of no rain would prove true. California has been experiencing a wetter-than-usual winter and the endless stream of gray clouds and rain seems to be the physical manifestation of the dark cloud relentlessly hanging over my head. 2019 has definitely gotten off to a bad start: three members of my family have ended up in the emergency room at different times for different reasons, my uncle passed away, and my mom has been experiencing some lingering health issues that no one has thus far been able to figure out. I can only hope that at some point the rain clouds, both literal and figurative, will give way to blue skies and warm temperatures. So far, any patch of blue that I have seen has felt like nothing more than a false promise. Every time it seems things are getting better, the phone rings and  - BOOM! - a new storm has arrived.

So, on this day, I wanted nothing more than a brief respite from the rain, even if it only lasted from the pop of the starting pistol to the crossing of the finish line. Just a moment to not worry. A few precious minutes to believe that everything was normal and nothing was more important than screaming like a madwoman as my son crossed the finish line. Give me that, and maybe, just maybe I'd be able to face the next storm headed my way.