Originally posted Sept 27, 2007

Tonight it rained.  I sat in wonder and listened to the sound of the rain against my windows.  I stood out on the front steps and let me feet get damp.  It has been such a dry summer.  The rain smelled miraculous and hopeful, the harbinger of good things.  Life giving and cleansing.  Just what we needed.

Nighttime in Rio, just after the storm passed

Nighttime in Rio, just after the storm passed

I have thought alot about my trip to Rio –the one I took two Octobers ago.  We took this photo our first night there.  Eddie’s friend, an ex-pat who had settled in this magical city, had taken us for a walking tour and showed us his favorite spot, a park across a lake from the hustle and bustle of this city.   A rainstorm rolled in suddenly, unexpectedly, catching us on the wrong side of the park.  It fell in sheets soaking us all as we ran for cover under some trees, laughing.  I laughed harder than I had in months. At that moment,  laughter bubbled up unexpectedly, as unstoppable as the rain.  It was so absurd and silly and joyful.  We were dressed to the nines for a night out on the town, with water running down our noses, with my chic outfit dripping and misshapen, my “oh-so-Rio” sandals squishing and making ridiculous noises.  It was the funniest thing ever to be in Rio in the warm rain.  I jumped in a puddle and lost my shoe.  Pretty soon we were all laughing because I couldn’t stop laughing

I had felt so heavy and stressed when I got to Brazil.  I was at the height of my financial panic and I had just started to wrap my heart around the idea that Juan was not coming back.  I arrived at the airport after flying all night with only $20 American and a three day training to run in Spanish.  I went to the cash machine at the airport to take out money for taxi fare and found my account was overdrawn.  My cell phone was out of batteries.  I had forgotten my credit card at home.  I had no idea what I would do next.  I went up to the money exchange counter and cashed in my $20.  I hoped it would be enough to get me to the hotel where I could regroup and figure out my next move.  I thought I had hit rock bottom.  I felt so alone, like such a failure.  To keep myself from breaking down in this strange city, I repeated a mantra “It is going to work out all right”  and then I added a fervent “please” and threw in a prayer for good measure.

The taxi fare was exactly what I had in my wallet.

I got to the hotel and they told me my room was already paid for.  I slept a heavy deep dreamless sleep.  I woke up to find lunch.  A a friend of a friend living in Sao Paolo who had come to meet me.  A fully charged cell phone and a Dad on the other end able to wire some cash to get me through the week.  And best of all when Eddie arrived that evening he had two airplane tickets to Rio.

Four days later I was standing in the rain in Rio, laughing as the water poured over my toes and ran down my fingers.  I remember thinking that the rain washed some of my grief away that night, just let it slip right away and run into this lake, leaving me feeling a tiny bit lighter and ready to start healing.

One Response to “The Storm Has Passed”

  1. maggie, dammit Says:

    Mmmmmm. Nice.

    I want so badly to believe in those kinds of prayers, in that kind of faith and letting go. I love stories like these, because they help me believe.