It seemed to me that this past Winter was especially hard. My home town was spared the horrible blizzards that devastated other parts of the Midwest, but our Winter was still made up of months of very cold temperatures and too much snow and ice. I don’t know if it’s my age or that my volunteer job of walking dogs at the local animal shelter means I’m outside for long periods of time, but whatever the reason, I don’t tolerate the cold very well. The blood drains out of my fingers, leaving them bleached white and painful, my nose runs continuously, and my eyes tear so much that everyone thinks I’m crying.
So you can see why I was really, really, ready for Winter to be over, even as the frigid temperatures hung on and the promise of Spring seemed so very far away. I often found myself wondering just how big of a beach-front Florida condo we could buy if we sold our house and drained our savings accounts. Sometimes I thought about just staying in my nice warm bed all day, reading books and eating hot soup. I even toyed with the idea of having all the supplies I needed delivered to me so that I didn’t have to venture out into the cold.
But I didn’t act on any of those crazy impulses. Instead, I just kept to my regular routine, knowing that sooner or later, Winter would give up and leave, making room for the Spring that I was longing for. And sure enough, Spring finally showed up.
The past couple of weeks have been (mostly) wonderfully warm, with just enough rain to wash away the nasty tree pollen that triggers my allergies. The flowers are blooming, the trees are budding, and the birds are singing outside my window every morning. The days are getting longer, and it now stays light well into the dinner hour, which means we can both cook and eat outside on our patio.
I believe Winter comes to all of us in many ways. Some times it’s the literal Winter of cold, nasty weather and long, dark nights. Other times, it’s the hardships and losses that that we suffer through and that can make life feel so very difficult, both physically and emotionally. There are times when it seems as if our personal Winter will never end.
That’s when it helps me to remember that at the end of every seasonal Winter, no matter how hard and how long it has been, comes Spring. The sun gets a little stronger, the temperatures a little warmer and the days last a little longer with each passing week. And that reminds me that the dark days in our personal lives don’t last forever either. It may take a long time, but eventually our burdens will feel just a little bit lighter, our hearts will feel just a little bit warmer, and our spirits will celebrate the arrival of our very own Spring.
Have you ever had one of those dreams that seems so real you had a hard time convincing yourself it wasn’t, and the emotions you felt in the dream stay with you long after you wake up? I once dreamed that my husband was cheating on me by dating the entire University of Iowa cheerleading squad, and also had the gall to tell me that it was “no big deal.” I was so angry when I woke up that it was all I could do not to slap him. And even though I knew it was just a dream, it still took me a few days before I quit glaring at him.
In just a few short days, those of us who live in the United States will be celebrating our Independence Day, also known as the Fourth of July. Traditionally, the holiday is observed with parades, bar-b-ques and fireworks, and I’m sure this year will be no exception. Despite the many serious issues that our country is facing, I think it’s a good thing for us to acknowledge and celebrate the “birth” of our nation and try to remember that, like it or not, we’re all in this together. My personal opinion is that we would do well to start concentrating far more on what unites us and far less on what divides us, but I know that is wishful thinking.
For me, that means holding my grandson while he’s still small enough to let me, even if the food on my plate gets a little cold while I do so. Or putting him in his stroller and taking him for a walk on a warm spring day, even when I have dozens of unfinished chores on my to-do list. It even means taking even a few minutes to actually play the piano I insisted on buying a few years ago, rather than just vowing to find the time play whenever I dust it.
One evening I was driving down the highway, my mind busy with its usual jumble of thoughts and concerns, when I came over the top of a hill and suddenly realized that I was driving straight into a spectacular sunset. It was just gorgeous, complete with a fiery red sun that radiated streaks of color across the sky as it dipped slowly into the horizon. I remember being surprised, because I have always associated beautiful sunsets with beach vacations, where the highlight of my day is often standing on a beach and watching the sun sink into the ocean. I couldn’t quite remember the last time I’d noticed a sunset in my hometown of St. Louis, since my house sits too low to see either sunsets or sunrises. And yet there it was: a sunset just as spectacular as anything I’ve ever witnessed on a beach vacation, even without the ocean.
I have always believed Sanibel Island is a beautiful place. And this visit didn’t change my view, despite the signs of damage and the piles of debris from the storm. Because this time, the beauty I saw wasn’t limited to the palm trees and the sandy white beaches. This time, I saw a community coming together through hope and hard work, repairing the damage and moving forward with determination and optimistic pride. And that was the most beautiful thing of all.
With all due respect to Forrest Gump, I don’t believe that life is really like a box of chocolates. Personally, I believe that everyday life is actually far more like doing laundry. Because no matter how many loads I wash, I know there’s always going to be more that needs to be done. I never get to the point where I can say, “That’s it! I washed, dried, folded, and put away all those clothes, and now I’ll never have to do laundry again!” Doing the laundry is an ongoing process, which makes it very much like so much of the rest of my life.