The Rain and My Dad

We would sit near the window and watch the Earth surrender to the rain.

He used to talk about the trees and the flowers and the beauty of each rain drop.

I realize now, that those insignificant moments then, mean everything to me.

He loved the simple things in life.

He loved: the flowers and the trees, how a single rain drop would cling to a piece of grass, the soothing sound of the rain, my company and our relatable silence.

And on rainy days he loved me a little more. 

And maybe that’s why I love the rain so much too.

Miss you Dad.