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.