Today was, well, one of those days.  We all have them, sure.  But, for me it was just a day that I wanted to get home.  And, be home.  When I  finally got home . . . after a seemingly endless day, I decided to go for a swim.  There are very few weeks left before the water is too cold, and I felt I needed to get out there and relax for a bit . . . and, think.    

I got out there, and there was no one else there.  Perfect.  That is the best thing . . . when no one else is there.  I am often hesitant about swimming alone, and I know I shouldn’t.  But, I don’t technically “swim” much . . . I just kind of hang about the edges and soak.  And, soak, I did.  It was actually very nice.   

Then, it started to rain . . . just a little drizzle.  One reason no one was there, was because there was a huge summerstorm earlier in the afternoon.  Everyone had darted into dry safety, and I darted into the peaceful bliss of the seclusion offered by the abandoned pool . . . hey, no one wants to get wet when they are swimming, right?  

I saw people darting past here and over there from one apartment to the next and over to the clubhouse trying to stay dry.  I just stayed on the end of the pool that allowed me to be up to my shoulders . . . the rain didn’t bother me one bit that way.  One guy even darted by and told me I was crazy!  Ha ha ha . . . I said, “jump in, and you won’t even notice it is raining”.  He didn’t get it.  And, I was glad he kept going, actually.  

Then, the rain was happening a little more . . . a little bigger drops.  And, it was starting to get cooler.  But, I was not yet ready to leave, and I still had a good 45 minutes before anyone would kick me out.   The pavement was starting to gather puddles and the umbrellas were starting to drip.  So, I dropped my chin right to the level of the water, so I was totally immersed (almost, anyway).  That is when I saw something magical.    

When I got closer to the water . . . there was this delightful little dance going on.  And, as the rain got a little heavier, there was a show right before my very eyes.  The lights in and around the pool added to the splendor.  Drops would drop.  Little ones would ripple.  Big ones would spatter.  Really huge ones would splash, and then a bubble would appear . . . and, then it would POP!  It was like an orchestra.  Frogs were protesting muchly, and a few times jets went over . . .  kinda like a crescendo.  Then, there was just the little ripples, big spatters, and really huge splashes chased by bubbles all about me again.  It was amazing.  It was a symphony and a serenade, and it was just for me . . . and, I so needed it.   

Today, I lost a dear friend.  An associate passed alone in his home last night.  He was discovered by a loved one this morning when they were let in by the landlord.  He did not answer the phone or the door.  His truck was there.  He was not at work.  He did not make it to his Doctor’s appointment this morning.  He was there . . . and, he was gone.  Just like that, Graham was gone.  

Honestly, in all my years, there have been very few associates who worked for me that were just genuinely good folk – over and around and up and down.  And, he was one of them.  I had kind of adopted him and another coworker there as my surrogate dad and mom . . . should anything happen . . . one or both of there were to come be with me until Mama and Daddy could get here.  We were all in agreement . . . that is just what would happen.    

Graham was also my map man . . . whenever I was lost around Charleston or not sure which way to go to get to wherever I was scurrying to, I would call Graham, and he would talk me to the place until I got there.  He was my very own navigation system, and he would always laugh when I would call and say “Do you know how to get to . . . “.  He was such a huge help, and he was a trip!   Lately, he has been so excited that he and his daughter were planning her wedding . . . they had just found the perfect location.  

But, unfortunately, he was alone last night.  I just pray that he went peacefully in his sleep.  Still, it was such a shock and such a sad day.  I found out around lunch time, and after notifying the rest of the management team, my regional and district managers, and corporate, I began to follow protocol and go to each and every associate I could grab and fill them in.  I told them, and they just shook their heads in disbelief.    

You see, I would for a HUGE company, but we are in a relatively small town . . . our “big box” is like a little family, and we are very close knit.  Believe me . . . that can be good and bad . . . we often bicker like family.  But, we are very close, and this was a difficult day.  I had some just stand and say “What?”.  His supervisor just cried and cried.  Many did that . . . I had to tell them to just go away and come back when they were ready.  And, they did.  It was incredibly sad.   

That is why I needed the pool and why I was so glad it had rained and why I was so glad that no one was there and why I found the rain dance to be so blessed.  When my Granddaddy Marshall died, I remember . . . It rained and rained and rained for days, even . . . like when Forrest Gump talked about the rain . . .   

“We been through every kind of rain there is. Little bitty stingin’ rain… and big ol’ fat rain. Rain that flew in sideways. And sometimes rain even seemed to come straight up from underneath.”    

That was my day today . . . both literally and figuratively.  That summerstorm earlier was a doozey . . . but, the rain at the pool was a delight.    

I also thought of the quote “Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on.” from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby.  The quote was taken almost verbatim from Edward Thomas’ WWI poem “Rain” where he wrote:  

“Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But, here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying tonight or lying still awake
Solitary, listening to the rain . . . ”   

I always loved The Great Gatsby, a lot in part because of that line.  It reminded me of my Grandaddy . . . and, it came to life again today when we lost Graham.    It really came to life in that rain dance symphony this evening. 

I miss Graham so already, but I will never forget how special he was to all of us.  I am always impressed when it is raining after the loss of someone . . . as though there are not enough tears that we might be able to shed . . . we still have the rain to help us cry and to wash the tears away and to help us to look forward to the memories that will certainly live on.