The Solace of Rain – My Father’s Gift

My father taught me to love the rain over the roof. Sit quietly and put that subtle sound, pattern, p pool in my cave. Please be aware that it will slide some tension on my skull.

This morning I was sitting in my office - she was also here and was supporting the mother's crazy quilt on the bed behind me. I sit quietly and heard it.

Dad taught me to listen to me. Listening may be the most difficult thing in his life. One ear died and the other ear became dull due to equipment and effort. 65% of the sound has disappeared

My father gave me my ear, my heart, I need to talk and listen. My mother wrote her in her heart - in her heart and in her heart - a letter she wrote, a letter she wrote, a note she sang every time she gets on the bus. I think that she gave them to my father as well.

But the word of rain is outside my mouth. Do not dance, do not run. They never fall, or they will never fall. Is that a drop or a lot? When will you quit falling?

Today, I calmed down and listened to my tongue. When snoring under the metal roof behind me, she was absent here.

Rain and I have a routine. We like that routine. Rain was at home alone on weekdays. I was at Hatford Elementary School. My father worked at J & R Garage. When my father was not working in the J & R garage, he ordinarily went to Ireland to drink beer and drink beer. Either way, he is not at home. The rain was at home alone. At 2:42 at the end of school, Uncle Weldon picked me up. Then he drove me home. He disappointed me between 2:58 and 3:01. Rain and I sat on the pouch for a while, I rubbed my toes. Then we took a walk. Then I will do my homework. Then I began to eat for my father and me. Then I feed the rain

My father needs to have rain. He needs it to raise crops. On such a dry day, my father complained that the "town" would overflow the roads and concrete with a pop-up shower. But like the weather in Georgia in the summer, there may be a small storm in the town, but it does not rain in the county. On our land, it is the stalk of dry corn twisted in the field.

What I keep is a half-hot pot in the morning, a pet's dog food from a semi-hot pot in the evening. When my father took home the rain for the first time, he said she did not need wet food which was more expensive than dry food, but I told her that a wild dog had eaten meat The rain is very clever. She never approaches my father. She stood at the doorway of my bedroom, and my father was waiting to wait to say "What would you like for dinner?" At the table she can gaze us and put her nails in a circle where we need food, until we see that my father's eyes are black and hard.

This is an exclusive winter vacation I spent at Northwestern University in 1999. When my father's cell phone rang, it was raining, we were in the parents car and in the parking lot of the Target shop. Immigration agent Daniel Lee helped my father apply for a green card. Lee was talking on the phone calling for help to pay attorney fees. He was arrested and found that the Ministry of Justice is suing him. We later learned that the staff of Lee and Leland Sustaire, Immigration and Naturalization Authority, had plans to use Sustaire for cash with a green card application. Mr. Li did not pay attorney's fee, but according to the procedure he advertised, he separated hard-earned money from rotten INS staff. From our point of view, everything seems legitimate