We are in our third day of heavy rain which will stretch into tomorrow. Today I will make the 2-hour drive to my son’s house to help my daughter-in-law and care for my grandchildren while my son is out of town.
So far this year we have had over 39 inches of rain — 1.44 inches today alone. (According to the U.S. climate website, our average annual rainfall is just over 61 inches a year. Last year we had almost 90 inches of rainfall due to some hurricane-related weather.) It’s no wonder my mind is floating…
In the midst of this rain-soaked weekend, my mind is drifting to a wonderful opportunity that has presented itself. I have been invited to a women’s meditative retreat in October in the midst of fall color in New England. My body relaxes just thinking about it.
My sisters and I were able to retreat to Blue Ridge, GA for 3 years before each of them passed. We rented a cabin tucked away in the mountains and spent a week together. We packed our bags, left our families and troubles at home and trekked to spend a week together as sisters. It was the most fun, restorative and healing time. We rarely had cell service, so we had plenty of time to work through old disagreements and just be.
We bonded and shared things that had never seen the light of day. We decided this: What happens in the mountains, stays in the mountains. I wrote a little about this in an old blog post — Relationships, Sisters, and the Value of Macaroni Salad.
The fall retreat in New England will bring together a small group of like-minded women to gather, share and heal together. We all have a common thread, but our backgrounds and experiences are rather diverse. The thought of this trip has already become a place of respite for me.
Yesterday, my daughter and her wife called to see if I would be willing to consider going to a cabin early next year — a mother/daughter trip. Two moms, two daughters and our shared granddaughter for a week in the mountains. It was a hell yes for me. I know the strength of women coming together.
So while right now, it may be raining hard here, I have many beautiful days to look forward to. Times of healing and communion. Times of shared experiences and new relationships. It is harder and harder to find these quiet and reflective times in our busy world. I have learned if they do not exist, we have the power to make them happen.
My husband has always been and will always be supportive of all my dreams and does not feel threatened by any of it. He knows I always return a better version of myself.
“We’re connected, as women. It’s like a spiderweb. If one part of that web vibrates,
if there’s trouble, we all know it, but most of the time we’re just too scared,
or selfish, or insecure to help. But if we don’t help each other, who will?”
Sarah Addison Allen,