Jacqueline Grisé

The Greatest Treasure

I love summer storms. Curled up with my blanket, I close my eyes and listen to the rain pouring down in the darkness of my backyard. Wetness slowly creeps along the concrete floor towards where I sit under the little covered porch enjoying a glass of whatever red was open. My little people are finally asleep and I’m grateful to have a bit of quiet time tonight. I take a deep breath then exhale slowly, partly to take in the smells of summer that are slowly turning to fall but mostly to expel the weight of adulting I’ve been carrying for the last while. I rarely feel sorry for myself but sometimes I mourn the loss of what I thought my life would be before it became what it is.