Rainy Thursday.

I was awaken today by the heavy downpour outside. I can hear the raindrops beating rhythmically against the windowpane producing a chant of their own. "Stay in bed, stay in bed," over and over again. I can visualize the drabness of the day, the gray sky, the wetness of the street, the chill and discomfort of a rainy day. This is a perfect day to stay home.

Then I smiled knowing that rain or not, I stayed home most days in a self-imposed isolation anyway. Duh!

If you have been reading my blog, you know all too well by now that my loneliness had imprisoned me for the past four months. I made a conscious decision not to go out into the world and socialize. What for? I know that socializing with others would not automatically make me feel less alone or lonely knowing that I don't have that one person in my life who knows me better than I do. A sea full of people may help fill the void but it can not replace the closeness that I craved.

And since my isolation had prevented me to stay current with the goings-on in my town, how can I hold a conversation when I don't even have an interesting thing to talk about when I go out in public? I can't just comment about the weather all the time, can I?

My husband on the other hand was a well-read person with a high IQ that he could strike up a conversation with anyone on the face of the earth and hold his own on a wide variety of topics. I knew, because I watched him do it. He never forget anything he'd ever learned, read or saw. He has a knack of dishing out funny stories made up, or real. Of course, I know a little technique of engaging strangers in a conversation, I'm just not as good at it as he was. Sometimes I am able to threw a wise-crack in from time to time, but I am always an observer, not a participant.

Whoa...! The shrill ringing of the alarm intrudes on my journey of remembrance. I got out of bed as the heavy downpour now turned to drizzle. As much as I would love to spend this day indoor, however, responsibilities necessitate my going out. Today I have to take my car to the motor shop for an oil change -another one of those things I was forced to learn to do on my own. With Ken gone, I am faced with tackling tasks he did so well. Now you see why everyday I am constantly reminded of his absence.

On my way to the motor shop, the rain had stopped. All of a sudden I no longer felt the discomfort of the wet, miserable day. The gray drabness of the day had not changed, but it no longer appeared that way to me. I was oblivious of my physical surroundings, because I was thinking of the impact of yesterday's event. It warmed my heart to know that I have touched the life of someone I should have known three years ago. He is a revelation that I never expected to come in my most vulnerable time. Yet in the same breath had given me strength knowing that even with my husband gone, part of him will still be around.

I am home now yet the smile never left my face. I could feel the warmth of the sun hidden beyond those heavy, gray clouds.

Indeed the sun is always there behind the clouds...