Rainy Reflections

The old man Em Jay sat at his sleek, modern desk, the sound of rain and thunderstorm filling his small apartment. The city outside was awash with water, the late evening light barely visible through the heavy downpour. He had just finished his modest dinner and felt the need to write, to share his thoughts with the world. Opening his laptop, he began to type.

Greeting to all my readers,

It is heavily raining outside. Luckily, I was able to reach home. Before this, I was strolling in the park—an activity I continue doing to keep my body functioning. Over the years, the park has changed its appearance. The trees planted years ago have grown taller and shadier. The small creek has gotten wider to manage the flood. How could I notice all this? Because there are memories of the past.

The old man Em Jay paused, listening to the rain batter against the windows, the thunder rumbling in the distance. Memories were a strange thing, he mused, capable of bringing both joy and sorrow.

To me, life is a collection of memories. At my age, some memories are hard to recall. Right now, the sound of heavy rain with thunderstorm triggers an emotion inside me. It is a kind of joy mixed with a sense of loss. Yet, I couldn't find an image to associate with it. Maybe because there were so many such rains that I experienced.

He leaned back in his chair, thinking about all the places he had been and the people he had met along the way.

In my life journey, there were plenty of places that I had been. I do believe most of you, my readers, also have plenty of memorable places. When we first arrive at a place we had never been before, the excitement is overwhelming. Years after that, images of that place trigger our emotions. The same thing applies to events in life. Those joyful events become valuable memories. Some sad or unfortunate ones, we try to forget.

The old man Em Jay's thoughts drifted to the past, to the moments that had shaped him, both good and bad. He remembered the excitement of arriving in new cities, the warmth of meeting new people, and the inevitable goodbyes that followed. Each place, each person, had left an indelible mark on his heart.

Again, at my age, some memories start to fade away. There aren't so many that I can recall and relive the moments of joyfulness. Maybe it is a blessing in disguise. The less memory I can recall, the less burden emotionally.

The rain continued to fall, its rhythmic sound offering a sense of calm amidst his introspection. He thought about the people who had come and gone from his life. Friends who had moved away, loved ones who had passed on. The weight of those losses had been heavy at times, but they had also taught him the value of the present moment.

If only I had realized, years ago, that life is just a collection of memories which later fade away, I would have faced life less hectically. We spend so much time worrying, rushing, and trying to control everything. But in the end, it's the memories that remain, and even they will eventually fade.

The old man Em Jay felt a sense of peace as he wrote, a calm acceptance of the passage of time and the ephemeral nature of life. He thought about the park he had visited earlier, how it had changed over the years, and how he had changed along with it. The park was a living testament to the passage of time, a reminder that change was inevitable and natural.

So, my dear readers, take a moment to cherish your memories, but also be mindful that they are just that—memories. Live your life fully, without the burden of holding on too tightly to the past.

He remembered a conversation he had once had with an old friend. They had been sitting in a café, watching the world go by, when his friend had said something that had stayed with him: "Life is like a river. It flows in one direction, and you can never step into the same water twice. All you can do is appreciate the journey."

The old man Em Jay nodded to himself, appreciating the wisdom of those words. The river of his life had taken him to many places, brought him joy and sorrow, but it had always kept moving forward. He had tried to live without regrets, but there were always moments he wished he could have held onto a little longer.

Wishing you all peace and tranquility on this stormy evening,

The old man Em Jay

The old man Em Jay leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The storm outside continued its symphony, a reminder that life went on, that memories were just a part of the larger tapestry. He thought about the creek in the park, how it had widened over the years to manage the floodwaters. It was a metaphor for his own life, he realized. He had grown, adapted, and endured, just like the creek.

And with that thought, he let the quiet embrace of the evening envelop him, finding solace in the connection he had forged through his words. The rain and thunder outside became a comforting backdrop, a reminder that even in the storm, there was beauty and meaning to be found.

As he drifted off to sleep, The old man Em Jay felt a sense of gratitude for the memories he had, the ones that had faded, and the ones yet to be made. Life was a collection of moments, each one precious in its own way. And even as they slipped away, they left behind a legacy of experiences that had shaped who he was.

The storm outside raged on, but inside his heart, there was a calm acceptance. The old man Em Jay knew that he would face whatever came next with the same resilience that had carried him this far. And for tonight, that was enough.