100-Word Memoir

Listen to the Rhythm of the Falling Rain

Image by shutterstock

I woke up the morning after my first husband’s death to the sound of a gentle rain.

We lived in the woods where winter’s ground was blanketed with fallen leaves and the rainfall made two distinct sounds — the first as it hit the leaves and the second after it bounced and hit the leaves again. Without the dynamics of falling from the sky, the…