Today is the first day of Spring. It was a long, hard winter. The other day I was getting out of the car after running errands. The Spring sun was shining and my skin actually felt warm instead of cod-fish cold. A woman was happily walking her dog past our house. I could actually see the spring in her step! Because I am my father’s daughter, I called out “We survived another winter! Isn’t it such a beautiful day!” She replied, “See!? We did survive! We can do it! we can make it!”
We did survive. We can do it. I am a Seasons girl. I don’t think I would be very happy living somewhere where there weren’t four distinct seasons. As I get older, Spring is becoming my favorite. When I was younger it was Fall. Isn’t it interesting that when I was in the Spring of my life, Fall was my favorite and now that I am getting closer to the Autumn of my life its Spring? I figure I’m in the mid-summer of life right now…mid to late July? Huh… that makes my brain hurt. And maybe my heart too.
Winter was hard. It isn’t always, but this one was. It was my oldest son’s last winter at home. He graduates from high school in May. Then he’s gone. He is going on his Big Explore. He is stepping out into his Spring. Things have been tense and a bit uncomfortable as we navigate our changing relationship with him. It is a weird transition to go from someone’s everything to someone’s “sometimes.” I really don’t mean for that to sound as pathetic as it came out. It’s a good thing, he is becoming an independent man. It has to be this way. It’s just strange. There are two younger siblings standing on the branch, wings still wet and staying close, but this one… he’s about to jump. “Did we do all we could? Have we put good stuff in him? Will he remember home? … will he remember me?”
So, here I stand, the beginning of Spring, with a spade in my hand and bags of dirt and mulch at my feet. What will I grow this year? The garden is calling. The birds are singing. It is a new beginning. It’s a new beginning for all of us in this little nest we’ve built. We are shaking off the cold winter. And maybe…just maybe… when the breeze picks up and the May flowers have bloomed I will be brave enough to give that first little bird a gentle nudge. Maybe.
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