The one thing that confirms my faith every single year is the arrival of Spring. We’ve already had a few warmer days in Memphis and the daffodils are showing sunny faces, the Forsythia and Quince are dancing and the Tulip Poplar is about to bust out. I walked down the block yesterday and noticed that many of my neighbors pansies are thriving. I didn’t get any out this year, but enjoying theirs is free and didn’t require any digging.
It has been a bleak winter in many ways, a winter of recuperation physically and spiritually with three deaths in our family. This month is the anniversary of my mother’s death, probably the most difficult one of all for me even after all these years. I love it that she died in winter, because I believe that just as winter can’t hang around forever, neither can grief. Spring comes, babies are born, cousins get married, we sit around with friends talking about good times and making new memories. Life goes on.
We are sprung too. Alleluia!
I think I’ve learned to remind myself, at least most of the time, that Spring always follows Winter. I hope I’ll learn to appreciate the things I can do during those bleak winter months and use them productively because it’s kind of a shame to waste time wishing for what’s going to come our way anyhow.