Finding Gratitude in the Rain By Katherine Emery General

Years ago, when we owned General Tanuki’s Restaurant, the health inspector, Margaret, stopped by for one of her routine visits. It was a raw, icy winter day, the kind when the cold rain seeps into your bones and the sidewalks glisten with a deceptively evil, slippery, shine. I remember greeting her at the door and grumbling about the miserable weather as she entered, her coat dripping, her clipboard tucked safely beneath her arm.

We had a wonderful rapport with Margaret; she was thorough, fair, and kind, a rare combination in her line of work. I tried to make light of the dreariness, muttering something about how days like this made me wish I’d stayed home by the fire. She smiled warmly, brushing the ice from her sleeves, and said, “You know, after surviving breast cancer, I don’t take a single day, or its weather, for granted.”

Her words stunned me. The hum of the kitchen, the clatter of dishes, even the hiss of the fryer seemed to fade for a moment. Here I was, fussing about the rain, while she had stared down something infinitely more daunting, and come out the other side with gratitude rather than complaint.

I never forgot that moment. Years later, karma had its quiet way of reminding me of her wisdom. After more than fifty days as a care partner to my husband during his stay at Johns Hopkins Hospital, I found myself needing time outside every single day, rain or shine, for my own sanity. The weather no longer felt like something to endure, but something to embrace, each drop of rain or ray of light a small reminder that I was still standing, still breathing, still grateful.

A study written by the Oncology Nursing Society has shown that Americans typically spend 90% of their time indoors. During the stress of the COVID-19 pandemic, many sought relief in the safety of the outdoors. Green spaces became a popular space for leisure, with a 291% increase in use during the shelter in place order. The study went on to state the mental health benefits of spending time outdoors, but most of us have reverted to the pre-pandemic lifestyle, more time inside and more stress.

Now that I’m home, I find myself outside as much as possible. The air is cooler now, perfect for long walks with my dog, the kind that quiet the mind and loosen what’s been held too tightly. It feels strange to realize that I completely missed most of August and September, as if those weeks were swallowed by hospital corridors and worry. There’s a gap in my memory, a stretch of time that exists only in fragments, the onslaught of doctors and technicians tapping on the door at all hours of the day or night, fluorescent lights, hushed voices, and the constant beeping of machines. The days and nights blurred into one long stretch of worry and waiting. Being outdoors again, I’m slowly remembering how to breathe in full sentences.

Kate Emery General is a retired chef/restaurant owner who was born and raised in Casper, Wyoming. Kate loves her grandchildren, knitting, and watercolor painting. Kate and her husband, Matt are longtime residents of Cambridge’s West End where they enjoy swimming and bicycling.