Litany of Spring

Last week, we were on Spring Break at a cabin in a local state park. Normally, we’d camp, but we were both thankful we’d chosen the cabin when thunderstorms blew through all night long and then heavy winds chased them the next day. Temperatures also dropped enough that staying in a toasty, safe cabin was a much better alternative. We then spent the next few days doing yard work and enjoying the sun, until allergies laid me low Saturday into Sunday.

This week? Well, people north of here woke up after a tornado hit their town at 4 am. We had storms and high winds, but no damage, other than some random limbs to pick up. This morning, when I saw the frost warning on my phone, I was thankful that we moved our tropical plants back inside the garage because of storms, and hadn’t taken them out, yet.

It’s been the kind of spring that will give you weather whiplash, swinging between spring-perfect days of flowers and sunshine to the wrath of dangerous storms and — yes, just a couple weeks ago — snow. And yet, today, I’ll be filling up the hummingbird feeders in anticipation of them darting around the backyard, and I’m in the middle of my plant shopping list.

I know, despite the litany of bad behavior, spring will rise and shine. The dogwoods will open, the pine pollen will temporarily dye my white(ish) vehicle snot yellow, and the mating calls of lawn mowers will be firing up soon.

I admit that this, my second spring without my mother, has been on the tough side. She would have wanted me to drive her around, excitedly pointing out the jasmine blooming and hanging out of trees along the roadside. She’d call and recite one of her sillier poems — spring has sprung, the grass is riz, I wonder where the birdies is? (Most commonly attributed to Ogden Nash.) My heart hurts just a bit, seeing the world turn green yet again, knowing how we both loved this time of year so much. My oldest brother lived in state briefly; he once described spring in Arkansas as too many shades of green. He wasn’t wrong, but it’s hardly a bad thing.

Likewise, as I continue onward toward my health goals, I’ve been waylaid by things I haven’t expected as well as bad choices I’ve made for myself. While I know the joy of being at my peak, I have had to endure the storms and remind myself that these times are the exception, not the rule. While I’m still learning, I have to have as much faith in myself that I will see the benefits of the times I’m going through, as much as I can count on the sunshine to win over the rains. While I don’t enjoy the trials of getting back where I was healthwise, much like enduring high winds and thunderstorms, I know that sticking it out is part of the growth process. I don’t like the rain, but we need rain for flowers to grow.

I have plans laid out clear through next spring break, and I’d like to do them with this body since I know it’s capable. I also know and accept that this body works better when it’s healthier than it currently is, and that’s completely within my control, just like my reaction to spring weather events. Rather than seeing setbacks as a source of frustration and complicating them further, I must look beyond them for the benefits I know are on the other side.

This is my Spring, and I’ll get through it to the sunshine, soon.

On a related note, at least for the time being, this blog is moving to a monthly format, rather than weekly. Thank you for your past support and I hope you’ll continue your support.

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