Why is spring such a crazy time for me? Spring symbolizes new life, changes, fresh air and calming breezes. I guess before the fresh air comes, things have to get stuffy. Otherwise, we wouldn’t appreciate the relief of inhaling that first breath of fresh air. I have been feeling that fresh breath coming for several weeks now. But, I am not allowed to fully partake of it for a few more weeks, when all the items on my list are checked off. So, tell me, how come it seems that the first breath of fresh air is cut short by some new, most likely unexpected, wave of smothering heat? Summer gets swallowed up by, well, by itself. One warm, sunny day filled with this and that – errands, appointments, an occasional visit with a friend—follows another. Before I know it, my mind is longing for the cozy comfort of autumn’s chill. I run my fingers longingly over the box containing my favorite sweaters. And one day, I prematurely put one on, only to pull it off after a few hours. Soon, it is time to carve pumpkins, and around the house, I’ve scattered various seasonal ornaments – Indian corn, miniature gourds -- you know the kind. But, it seems they’re only in place for a few days before my mind wanders to the boxes filled with decorations for Christmas – the king of all holidays. I must get them up as soon as Thanksgiving is over, so we can enjoy them for the maximum amount of time, I reason. Each year I try to enjoy the moment, and often succeed. There are moments that have been won. But, I admit, that many moments are longing for something else – longing for something to come, something to linger, or something end. Then I chide myself, if I would only look down my nose and appreciate what is there, my time would be much better spent. Of course, I know this. Even as I take down the Christmas tree and feel that first twinge of longing for summer and warm weather, I know this. The whole winter is ahead of me. And, though there are no “grand” holidays in the coming months, worthy of decorations, gifts, and celebrations, if I don’t be careful, one day my wish for spring will come true. That first breath of fresh air will arrive. January, February, and March will have left me. My son will never be that age during those months again. Next winter, he might not let me cuddle him so closely, he won’t need my legs to hold on to so he can stand, and he probably won’t think I’m the best thing in the whole world. So, I’ll hold on to this day, and all that it holds, while it’s mine.
Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.
Email me!
No comments:
Post a Comment