Icy rain on a hard tin roof
...but when it really came down to it, he was just bent and bruised underneath, fighting harder each day to stay sturdy and fight the rain.
Do you know the sound of rain beating hard on a tin roof? The sound that makes you feel like at any moment, it could all cave in, but it never does. Although, I know that the beating is just rain, and roof is sturdy, I still feel a pang of worry when that first rain storm comes by, because I’ve learned that some of the strongest things, are also the weakest.
It was early February, and the rain seemed endless, beating and beating down, bruising everything in sight. My grandfather, who had earlier in his life, been diagnosed with bladder cancer, seemed to be getting worse. No one ever expects to lose someone, especially not when you’re fourteen, have a whole life ahead of you, and expect everyone you care about to still be there to see what you accomplish. Everything that goes wrong just seems to feel like that casual, winter rain showering the tin roof of your life, but never really damaging it. But, that isn’t really life is, is it? I always knew that there would be a time when my life would take a 380, turn completley around, and change my outlook on things forever, but I never expected to come so soon, or so tragically. On and on, the days became longer, and the medical tests were coming back with progress. He seemed better, he acted better, but when it really came down to it, he was just bent and bruised underneath, fighting harder each day to stay sturdy and fight the rain. After months, weeks, and days of fighting, the rain came crashing down on a cold February morning, taking a piece of me, a piece of my life, and my grandfather with it. Life as I knew it, was different, and so was I, a simple fourteen year old who’s life had changed, by that old, familiar beating of rain on a cold, tin roof.