My mother always kept a supply of chocolate and rain boots close.  

I never questioned her morals because mother knew best.

I realised down the line , after many attepmts to work it out , she showed me her love in many different ways.

There was no problem chocolate couldn't fix , sometimes chocolate wasn't enough so she would hand me my rain boots and tell me to go stand in the rain .

She would join me and  hold her hands out , palms facing upwards towards the sky that was crying, I would copy her stance and hope I understood.

I never quite liked the feel of wet hair draped against my neck , wrapping around my face , it always resembled a tangled mess.

But my mother always looked content with the rain pouring down , beating off her chest.

She often told me life had a peculiar way of showing you what needed to be done.

So with her hair wrapped around her face, getting caught in her mouth, the water dripping off her chin a smile would appear.

She told me good things come in three but so dose the bad, she told me don't hold your nose up in the air unless you plan on smelling the rain .

She looked at me and said " rain is good, it washes away everything , i hope you learn from this "

We would go in and hang up our coats , make sure to wipe our  boots , she really did love that wooden floor.

Years on I released something that I'm sure she knows herself, rain can cause a mess , but like she always said " wipe your feet on the mat darling , the past is in the past"