a blessed relief

I felt it rolling in last night with the thunderclouds. I could feel it in my muscles and tendons and sinew as the thunder rolled in the distance. The air shifted, got cooler, the wind picked up (even more), then the storm hit. I was so relieved, and if you know me, you know I usually would be hiding under a bed (and I'm not even kidding) at the first lightning crack. But it is all different now, this feeling deep inside of me - a fullness of being, perhaps, a lifting of the gray hands of grief. I can see light again, and am able to move and get things done again. I don't cry as much (except today as I was eating a taco salad from Wendy's - Mom's favorite), and I miss Mom as much as ever, but that unbearable ache isn't clutching my chest so much. I think I can live without her. I know I can, and that knowingness is a blessed relief.