I had a “to do” list written in ink when the morning started to darken.

Clouds moved in rapidly, and quickly took over the sky.

There were screeches and laughter and the sound of running feet as fat drops of rain started to fall and those outside, caught equally unaware, scrambled for cover.

I closed the notebook I had been filling with “things I have to do,” put it to the side and clicked my pen closed.

I felt guilt creep in as I remembered all of the times I had put my child off, telling him we would go to the park in “five minutes” which quickly stretched into twenty, because of the “things I had to do.” Laundry I had to fold, beds I had to make.

Dogs left at the door, no one to throw the ball for them because “I have to run an errand.”

The friends I didn’t go out with because “I had too much work I had to do.”

My husband told to “start the movie without me” as I had to finish the dinner dishes, wipe the counters clean.

The Saturday morning breakfasts with my mom cut short because I “had to go to the grocery store, and get gas” and on and on and on until she was no longer there and my Saturdays lay wide and open and empty with only the things I “had to do” to fill the time and space.

But “have to” is a one way street.

It is a greedy phrase that is never satisfied; one “have to” leading to another and another, until children are grown, end credits roll and dogs no longer rush to the door.

So I put my list away when the sky opened up.

Dishes and laundry and sweeping and mopping don’t HAVE to be done right now.

Those things will wait. And wait and wait and wait. While other things go on without you.

There are things that “HAVE to be done” and things that NEED doing.

It has taken me most of my adulthood and lots of wasted time, hurt feelings and missed opportunities to start to learn the difference.

So as thunder rumbles in the distance, I rush to the door and throw it open wide because I need to be in the middle of it all; feel the air become electric, feel the rain on my upturned face.