The monsoon season has been with us since June but the rains this year have been heavy and quite prolonged.

During one of the many rained out weekends, I found myself in my living room, staring outside like a kid trapped by the bad weather.

I couldn’t help but recall a conversation I had with my father so many years ago. I remember him saying that the rain is for the sun while the sun was for the old.

The Past

Being middle-aged so many years ago, my father and I were faced with the same rainy out weekend decades ago.

It was a rained out Friday afternoon and I had just come home from school. Much of the city was flooded out because of a slow-moving typhoon up North.

My father was the last person to come in when the evening came. He had gotten stuck in over three hours’ worth of traffic and was drenched.

Instead of the pleasant fatigue he exhibited after work, he was in quite a bad mood having been stuck in the car with the clothes extremely wet and shoes filled with water.

Dinner was a bit tense, but he cooled down after about an hour of sitting in his favorite arm chair to watch his regular program.

I remember telling him that time that I loved the rain.

It always made me feel great when the first heavy drops would come down, later to be followed by the drone of the cascading water.

I remember telling him that when the rain came, temperatures would drop and I’d stop sweating buckets. Not only that, but the rain was the perfect excuse to bring out my jacket to enhanced my ensemble.

He listened patiently, with his eyes closed. Anyone would have mistaken him for being asleep with his steady breathing, but he listened intently to me.

After taking a deep breath, he said that people his age prefer the sun over the rain.

He was not fond of the feeling of having this much water around him. And even the slightest drizzle made him uncomfortable.

He added that the cloudy days made him feel depressed with their gray colors and that the lack of light strained his eyes.

But most of all, he hated the feeling of wet shoes and clothes, most especially when it went down to the underwear.

The Present

The last time I remember this much rain was when I was a kid in grade school. Even the time I spoke with my father decades ago didn’t feel this bad.

So as I sat in my favorite arm chair in the living room this weekend, I could not help but feel some annoyance with the continuous rains.

For some strange reason, things have been heavy lately. I’ve been feeling quite physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted lately.

I normally am able to keep my exhaustion under control as I engage in a few physical activities, the most effective being a two hour walk a couple of blocks with Baldy.

Speaking of which, Baldy is also bothered by the rain as he too hasn’t been able to get out lately. His mood has been a bit down and I worry he may decide to take any frustrations out on my arm chair.

Alternative Activities

Back in the days of my childhood, both my father and mother would get creative to keep us from getting bored.

During rainy days, my mother would break out the Monopoly board for everyone to play on the first day. On the second day, it’ll be Snakes and Ladders preoccupying everyone. And when Boggle became popular, it occupied everyone’s attention for a few hours.

But when the power would go out, it was my father who would take over the night. Amidst the sounds of cascading water, howling wind, and loud thunder, my father’s voice would resonate through the dark with stories of pirates, adventures in space, and hair-brained activities of relatives.

Come to think of it, the rain wasn’t such a bad thing for all of us back then because it was a great time to get together for some family bonding.

Alas, the same cannot be said about today’s families.

Instead of spending time together, family members spend it with others or just with themselves.

Facebook, Twitter, PSPs, Xboxes, iPhones, and MP3 players have all put up barriers to family bonding today. And when the power goes out, family members end up being more frustrated.

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