When the Rain Ends

by Mary Ellen Taylor

Do not squander time. It is the stuff life is made of. —Benjamin Franklin

What-ifs didn’t matter. If Dani had learned anything, it was that the universe didn’t care what she wanted. Like the ocean, it swept in and reshaped the beaches and dunes at will, and it never once considered the destruction in its wake.

Her mind lingered in that odd space between awake and asleep where dreams, regrets, and worries flourished.

What was it that Mom said? Feeling bad just gets in the way of a good day.

“Bad times are guaranteed. God knows I’ve seen my share, and so have you. No getting around it. But if you hang in there long enough, the world does turn, and the good times follow.”

But memory was a tricky thing. It changed with time, emotions, and experience, like the beach did with the tides.

Then he’d stopped resenting the future and started searching for moments of joy in the present. Do not squander time. It is the stuff life is made of.

But that’s what grief did. It was patient, always lurking in the shadows, ready to spoil a happy moment, sour a day, or prompt unexpected tears.

I realized healing isn’t just crying and sadness, but it also requires living life and finding joy.”

“It never goes away. Most days, it does lose its edge, but every so often, when you least expect it, grief cuts. And maybe that’s not so terrible. That jab is a reminder that you loved her very much.”