My mother loved rain. A lot. She could sit for hours just watching rain fall.

One of the disappointments of my life was that mom died before I got married. This was my fault: dragging butt on it until I was 40.

But, bottom line: she wast at my wedding. It also hurt Cheryl that mom wasn’t there because she and my mom had become thick as thieves from the first minute they met. So, we were both sad that mom wasn’t there.

Or, so we thought.

Our wedding was held on a spectacular sunny day. 77 degrees and not a cloud in the skies. A good time was had by all (note: do *not* provide an open bar: your friends and family are enormous drunks when the booze is free). After, we left.

And we drove in the gorgeous sunshine without a cloud in the sky and we were happy. And then we parked and got out of the car and in what seemed like seconds a cloud formed above us and...it rained.

Not much! But, it did rain. It was positively bizarre.

Mom had showed!

Now, why bring this up? Because that was a good omen. It was the blessing of heaven on our marriage and I’m sure mom organized it. Silly, I’m sure you think: but I think it was. It was the signal of good things.

We haven’t had rain here in Las Vegas for months. At least six, maybe more. I was on the patio a little bit ago and as I fussed and fretted about tomorrow there suddenly came the distinct sound of raindrops on the tin roof of the patio.

I stepped out to see and I single raindrop fell upon my cheek.

Mom paying a visit, I think.

And something good is about to happen.

Barbara Jane Noonan. 1933-2003