Summer Showers

by Luiza Guimarães, social media and digital marketing associate at Lantern Publishing & Media

Where I am from, the holidays are synonymous with hot weather, pools, and summer storms. Free from school obligations, lucky kids get to play around until Carnival celebrations end and the year officially starts.

My cousin and I spent the majority of our teenage summers at our grandmother’s house. We started our mornings whenever Tinker Bell, our white persian cat, asked to be let out. She wouldn’t go too far, as most of the neighborhood cats liked to hang out under the cedar trees at my grandmother’s garden.

The entire day was spent listening to grandma’s stories, reading, or convincing her to join us for whatever arts and crafts project we had going on. Grandma lived alone most of the year, but in January, my cousin and I wouldn’t give her a moment of peace. 

Grandma was loving, and kind, and patient. But she was terrified of storms. Summer storms made her anxious. They never lasted more than one hour, but it was one intense hour.  

Upon hearing the first thunder, grandma would start praying to Saint Barbara. She would make me and my cousin remove all metal earrings, rings, and belts. Metal attracts lightning, she said, no matter how small.

Clouds gathered outside and the minute Tinker Bell rushed back in, my cousin and I were out.

The air smelled like rain. The garden’s smells solidified in the air before the first few drops. Smoke came up from the hot ground as we danced and played until we got too tired and collapsed under the cedar trees, Tinker Bell staring at us from the window with judgemental eyes.  

Soaked after the rain, we would tip-toe to the bathroom and take a hot shower. Grandma waited for us in the kitchen, with hot beverages and a new batch of stories to tell. It was the agreement we had with her. 

She promised us she wouldn’t be too scared if we only stayed out for the hour, if we took a hot shower and a hot beverage, and warmed our hearts with stories. Nowadays, I suspect it was the best way she found to make sure we were not sick after staying out in the cold rain.

I think she appreciated the one hour of peace and quiet from her granddaughters that the rain gave her, although I am sure she still prayed quietly and kept a safe distance from all things metal.