Have you ever been driving along in a rain shower, which suddenly turns into a blinding, thundering downpour? It’s not as if you didn’t see the storm coming. There had been plenty of warning. Looking out your bedroom windows while getting dressed for dinner, clouds threatened long before you grabbed your umbrella, climbed into the car and headed to the restaurant on a Saturday evening. But there you are, slowly navigating a less-than-familiar winding road and gripping the steering wheel, you and your passengers entombed in swirling fury, a deafening assault of liquid grey shadows. You can’t stop. There is no safe haven in sight. How long will this last? Where is the road?
Around a curve suddenly all is clear, there the winding road and surrounding woods point the way up the mountain towards your destination. Then, released from teeth clenching uncertainly, you breathe in the transient storm’s blessing, nurturing renewal.
Last week, Keith’s father’s house burned without human casualty, thank goodness. The next day, Keith decided not to accept another government contract and retired from 43 years of service. I made an appointment with our real estate agent. It’s time to move permanently to Vanaprastha, closer to Dad.
A sudden shower, not entirely unexpected, finds us navigating a less-than-familiar road, sometimes gripping the steering wheel and squinting into grey shadows, not always sure where the road is and how we’re going to get to our destination. We can’t stop and don’t know how long this will last, but trust that around a curve, all will be clear, perhaps for a while.
What rain shower turned into a blinding downpour for you?