The Mom Who Sang on Rainy Days

I made a choice to be the person I wanted my children to remember

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Photograph by Aline Nadai on Pexels

I was disappearing. I could feel it deep inside of me. Layer upon internal layer. A series of tiny little emotional dents chipping away at my center.

But it was my children who would ultimately bring me to my senses.

Not just one but every rainy day song in existence. The vocals would start with “It’s raining, It’s Pouring,” and make way to “It Never Rains In Southern California” to “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” to “Rainy Days and Sundays Always Get Me Down.”

They were emotional hand me downs. Only my voice could dictate these generational heirlooms. The sentimental Geneology defining our family.

Who would my children remember?

Their rainy day mom? Or the stranger who had replaced her?

Written by

National Relationship Columnist, Freelance Journalist & Former Business Columnist. All Shapes of Love — #WomanResurrected colleen.sheehy.orme@gmail.com

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