When It Rains, It Pours

There’s something about the gray skies of winter that seems to echo life’s messier moments. The saying “when it rains, it pours” perfectly captures how bad news seems to arrive in waves, one storm rolling in after another. In those moments, it can feel impossible to imagine clear skies ahead.

Lately, I’ve been living in the thick of it. Since November of 2024, it’s been one thing after another. It started with car accidents. Two of them, neither my fault. The first was a fender bender involving the car I use for ride share which, while minor, still meant time out of work. Then came the big one: a wreck that totaled my wife’s Civic. My young son was in the car with me at the time. Thankfully, he was unharmed, apart from being terrified, but the what-ifs still haunt me. If my littlest had been with us, he would’ve been sitting on the side that was hit. Now I’m working with insurance on two different auto claims over a 6 week period.

On top of the car drama, my holiday season was graced with pneumonia, a bout of norovirus, and two toddlers trading sicknesses like baseball cards. My kids started thinking every trip outside was for either a doctor’s visit, medicine, or a rental car. My four-year-old even started asking, “Are we getting a new rental today?” as if crashing cars was just part of our family routine.

While his perspective was (almost) funny, mine was far less sunny. I liked our Civic. It was paid off, and the idea of taking on a car payment again felt like adding another weight to an already heavy load. Between managing my own mental health, maintaining sobriety, and trying to keep the house running while my wife, an amazing nurse, picked up extra shifts, it felt like life had served me the perfect cocktail (pun intended) for failure.

I’m fighting harder now than I ever have in my life. And in this time I found found strength in the Chaos.

My perspective has started to shift. These were the kinds of stressors that, in the past, would’ve sent me into a downward spiral. I would’ve numbed the overwhelming, with bad choices, which only would’ve made everything worse. But now, in the midst of this cascade of events, I found something unexpected: gratitude.

Don’t get me wrong, the situation was still incredibly difficult. But I was present. I was there for my kids, fully aware and engaged. I could comfort my terrified son after the accident. I could manage doctor appointments, insurance calls, and endless runs to the pharmacy. And I could do it without checking out or relying on old crutches.

It wasn’t easy. It felt like the storm would never end. But one by one, the challenges started to resolve. Each weight lifted, and slowly, the pressure began to ease.

AlWhen bad things happen in clusters, it’s easy to feel like the universe is out to get you. But the truth is, life’s storms don’t last forever. While you’re in the middle of it, it’s hard to see any light—but it’s there. Sometimes, it’s in the smallest moments. A short walk to clear your head. Fifteen quiet minutes while the kids nap. A call to a loved one to hear a voice that reminds you you’re not alone. Watching the sunrise and realizing that every day, no matter how hard, is a chance to start again.

These little moments of light are what help us weather the storm. These beacons of clarity lighting our way. Lighthouses to guide us home.

As we go forward into a new year, we must all take life one step at a time. No matter how overwhelming things feel, every storm eventually passes. Not every problem disappears overnight, but with time and patience, the weight eases.

So, to any parent out there feeling buried under the chaos: you’re not alone. We all have our moments where the rain won’t stop, and the clouds won’t clear. But as you stand in the middle of the storm, I hope you can find a small glimmer of light to hold on to.

This too shall pass. You’re stronger than you realize. And when the skies finally clear, you’ll look back and see just how much you’ve weathered.

One step at a time.

K