When I was little, my grandfather told me something I didn’t really understand at the time.
He said,
“Don’t lend your umbrella to people who only show up when it’s raining.”
To me, it just sounded like a clever line, and I didn't give it much thought. I smiled and moved on.
But as I got older, life slowly unpacked the meaning behind those words.
I started noticing how some people only come around when they’re in trouble.
When they’re going through something, they remember you.
They call.
They check in.
They lean on you.
But once their skies clear up, once the crisis is over, they disappear like you never existed.
And it hurts.
Not because you expected anything in return,
but because you realize you were just a place to hide from the storm, not someone they truly cared about.
Now, whenever someone comes back into my life during a storm,
I quietly ask myself:
“Will they still remember me when the sun comes out?”
Because kindness doesn’t mean being a doormat.
And helping doesn’t mean you have to set yourself on fire every time it rains.
These days, I choose my umbrellas wisely.