Rainy Sunday in Boston


Sunday morning. Gray light through the half-closed blinds. When I awoke, the drops had not yet started hitting the air conditioner, so I thought we’d be safe to walk around the city for a bit. After a cup of tea, and some morning chit-chat with Kira, I stepped into a hot shower, but by the time I finished drying off, the cadence of water was already beating rhythmically on the metal unit.

We stalled at the front table, looking out onto the street. Above the John Hancock Tower, the light grew brighter. Maybe the day would turn around after all. These were the moments I loved – the extra time with a dear friend, unexpected and welcome – and I put my usual plans to make an early departure on hold.

There were honey sticks to find, and honey to go along with them, at the SoWa Market. There was a brunch to be had at Cinquecento, and lavender water to locate afterward. There was a red umbrella held over both our heads, and a quick change into new boots for Kira and her open-toed shoes. As the day got progressively worse, and the wind and rain toyed with our shared umbrella, we ducked into hotels and shops, drying off between wind-blown wetness, partaking of bits of sustenance here and there, but mostly just browsing and enjoying the time together.

Slowly, I’m learning to embrace the moment, even in the rain, and even if it only delays the inevitable good-bye.

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