Rainy Rain!
Gosh, three days in a row of rain, but it's kind of nice. Early fall rains. My first true recollection of an early fall rain was back in October of 1966, when we lived in Cleveland and were just getting ready to move to a new house.
In preparation for the move, my parents left me and my older brother overnight with friends because he and I had to go to school the next day. The family we were staying with had three kids but none of them were little anymore. Back then, I was painfully shy -- excruciatingly shy. I was so shy that when I first went away to nursery school, the teachers there thought I was autistic. I had to be tested for autism to be allowed to stay in that school. But really what I was, was pathologically shy and I had severe separation anxiety: I was terrified of being away from my home & my mother. Maybe because I was taken away from my biological mother when I was two weeks old; I don't know. I can't possibly remember. But I do remember how hard it was for me to be separated from my mother that one particular night.
The girl in that family was already a teenager. I remember that she was really nice and she had a great teenage-girl room, with frilly twin beds, but I woke in the middle of the night and was very homesick and started crying and I woke her up. I was afraid that my mother was never going to come back for me. I remember that girl got out of her own bed and sat on the bed with me and talked to me until I fell back to sleep.
Anyway, the next day, my first grade class at school was going on a "field trip." We were only 6, so the field trip was going to consist of taking a walk in the neighborhood and looking at the fall leaves. Since my mother was busy with the move, I wasn't going to be able to go home that day and have lunch -- I was going to have to eat at school. And much to my surprise, the lady I was staying with, hands me a paper bag with my lunch in it and she said, "Your mom made this for you to take to school with you today!" What a relief that little paper bag was -- a lifeline! It gave me such hope that my mother hadn't forgotten about me and was going to come back and get me eventually!
So off I went to school, incredibly excited about our little field trip. However, it was raining! We did indeed go on our field trip, but it was cut short because of the rain. But in that brief time that we were actually out in it, I was mesmerized by the beauty of the wet sidewalks; by the fall leaves not only on the trees but the ones down on the ground by my feet. I had on my little raincoat, and a little dress, because in those days, girls weren't allowed to wear pants to school. And I had on knee socks and my little oxfords, and I remember looking down at the wet sidewalk and seeing my feet and all those beautiful leaves there.
Twenty years later, on an October evening in Manhattan, it was raining and I was heading out on a date. I was wearing an awesome ankle-length white trench coat, and a short black cocktail dress and because of the rain, I had my head down, and I looked down at my feet and saw the autumn leaves down there on the wet sidewalk, and I saw the very stylish Italian high-heels I was wearing and my chic black stockings, and I remembered that little field trip in 1966 and wondered when had I actually grown up and where the time had flown...
Well, here we are twenty years after that and I really don't know where the time has flown. But I still get excited to go walking on an early fall day in the rain, looking at all the beautiful leaves, regardless of what shoes I'm wearing. Sunday, I was talking to Jay in Denver (my Senior Prom date from 31 years ago) and I told him how, once, up in Cleveland, when I was about 4, I had collected all these beautiful fall leaves from my grandmother's backyard and had taken them to her up on her back porch. When it was time to go inside, she tossed all the leaves back in the yard. I was stunned. I said, "Grandma, those were so pretty; why didn't you want to save them?"
She said, "Don't worry, honey, they'll all be back again next year." And, gosh, did she have the inside scoop on that!
In preparation for the move, my parents left me and my older brother overnight with friends because he and I had to go to school the next day. The family we were staying with had three kids but none of them were little anymore. Back then, I was painfully shy -- excruciatingly shy. I was so shy that when I first went away to nursery school, the teachers there thought I was autistic. I had to be tested for autism to be allowed to stay in that school. But really what I was, was pathologically shy and I had severe separation anxiety: I was terrified of being away from my home & my mother. Maybe because I was taken away from my biological mother when I was two weeks old; I don't know. I can't possibly remember. But I do remember how hard it was for me to be separated from my mother that one particular night.
The girl in that family was already a teenager. I remember that she was really nice and she had a great teenage-girl room, with frilly twin beds, but I woke in the middle of the night and was very homesick and started crying and I woke her up. I was afraid that my mother was never going to come back for me. I remember that girl got out of her own bed and sat on the bed with me and talked to me until I fell back to sleep.
Anyway, the next day, my first grade class at school was going on a "field trip." We were only 6, so the field trip was going to consist of taking a walk in the neighborhood and looking at the fall leaves. Since my mother was busy with the move, I wasn't going to be able to go home that day and have lunch -- I was going to have to eat at school. And much to my surprise, the lady I was staying with, hands me a paper bag with my lunch in it and she said, "Your mom made this for you to take to school with you today!" What a relief that little paper bag was -- a lifeline! It gave me such hope that my mother hadn't forgotten about me and was going to come back and get me eventually!
So off I went to school, incredibly excited about our little field trip. However, it was raining! We did indeed go on our field trip, but it was cut short because of the rain. But in that brief time that we were actually out in it, I was mesmerized by the beauty of the wet sidewalks; by the fall leaves not only on the trees but the ones down on the ground by my feet. I had on my little raincoat, and a little dress, because in those days, girls weren't allowed to wear pants to school. And I had on knee socks and my little oxfords, and I remember looking down at the wet sidewalk and seeing my feet and all those beautiful leaves there.
Twenty years later, on an October evening in Manhattan, it was raining and I was heading out on a date. I was wearing an awesome ankle-length white trench coat, and a short black cocktail dress and because of the rain, I had my head down, and I looked down at my feet and saw the autumn leaves down there on the wet sidewalk, and I saw the very stylish Italian high-heels I was wearing and my chic black stockings, and I remembered that little field trip in 1966 and wondered when had I actually grown up and where the time had flown...
Well, here we are twenty years after that and I really don't know where the time has flown. But I still get excited to go walking on an early fall day in the rain, looking at all the beautiful leaves, regardless of what shoes I'm wearing. Sunday, I was talking to Jay in Denver (my Senior Prom date from 31 years ago) and I told him how, once, up in Cleveland, when I was about 4, I had collected all these beautiful fall leaves from my grandmother's backyard and had taken them to her up on her back porch. When it was time to go inside, she tossed all the leaves back in the yard. I was stunned. I said, "Grandma, those were so pretty; why didn't you want to save them?"
She said, "Don't worry, honey, they'll all be back again next year." And, gosh, did she have the inside scoop on that!
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