My first memory of falling in love with the sound of rain was probably between the age of 7 and 12. It was at the cabin my family reserved every summer at a resort in northern Minnesota. The cabin we would literally pack up and move to for one week of our two week stay. It was a very coveted cabin mostly because of its proximity to the beach but also for the phenomenal view of the sunsets. The cabin’s name was Maple. I have loved all things maple my whole life because of this cabin. Maple syrup, maple trees, maple sugar…you get the idea. This was a place my father had also been taken to when he was young. A place both of my parents loved equally but for very different reasons.
My father loved to fish and troll for walleye. Shop for new spinners and use leeches for bait. If he wasn’t napping and it wasn’t raining, he was fishing. And for reasons I will never know now, he always cooked breakfast, which never happened at home normally.
My mom loved to read books (she rarely ever read at home), catch some sun rays, shop in town for “things we cannot get at home” and watch the sunsets. But some of her favorite moments were the days when the rain would softly fall on the cabin roof. As children we dreaded those days, obviously, no swimming, or playing outside of any kind. Those days usually turned into card and board game days. Looking back we didn’t realize how good we had it. Totally unplugged.
She would sometimes say “just be still Tiffany and listen. If you could just be quiet you might find some peace in the sound.” I asked a lot of questions growing up and always wanted to talk about my feelings; now I do it for a living. Funny how life works out.
Hearing the sound of a light rain or even better, distant thunder, remained one of my moms favorite sounds up until a few days before she passed away. One day the garbage truck on the street rumbled and she thought it was thunder and it was the first time she had opened her eyes in days and the look on her face was of absolute pure hope. That was instantly shattered by someone telling her what it really was. To watch that joy disappear and disappointment take its place was one of the most painful things I witnessed in her passing. So, I had Kristina bring me my sound machine so I could play the rain. I know in my heart she was back in that cabin listening to the rain; finding the peace she so desperately wanted every other day of her life.
I have struggled the past few days in regards to missing my parents, who are no longer on this earth with me. I know I personally would not be here where I literally am if they were still alive but there are certain moments that I really, really wish they were. Today is one of them.
Today we are hosting our first ever retreat. A four hour soul revival focusing on the body. I have dreamt of this event in some capacity since we decided to create the sanctuary. I want it to be something we offer pretty regularly throughout the year, focusing on the body, mind and spirit. The goal is to create an event where a person can renew their spirit but also connect with who they really are. Grief affects all of us in some way, shape or form every single day. We are trying to create a space where a person can put that down for a minute and heal. In whatever way they need to. This is one of the most important things we believe we can offer here and we are so incredibly excited to offer this.
Ironically, it is raining. The soft, light, soothing, albeit melancholy rain that my mom used to love so much. We have a metal roof on our home in the woods and the sound is strikingly similar. It makes me both happy and sad at the same time. Bittersweet I guess is that word. And sometimes the bitter part is very bitter. That is grief for you.
I know they are watching me, guiding me, supporting me, from a place I cannot see. It will never be the same as having them here.
That little girl all those years ago did not know that someday she would live in a place very similar to that resort (minus the lake front property and stunning sunset views) that would remind her almost daily of her most cherished memories growing up. The happiest her parents ever were. She wouldn’t know that in the moment her mom asked her to be still and listen that someday, many, many, years later, she would be hosting a group of people she would be asking to do the same. Just be still and listen.
It is my absolute wish today that all of our participants find the peace they are seeking in whatever way they need it. I think if there is one way that my parents could have showed up today it would have been in the form of rain.
As I was typing this, a cardinal landed on my bird feeder.
Peace and Love to you all-
Namaste
Tiffany
