I am eagerly anticipating the arrival of spring.
It officially arrives on March 20th, but I see signs already. Snowdrops! We have masses of them around the house, and just seeing the green shoots is enough to send a surge of joy coursing through my senses.
The arrival of the first robin is my next moment of joy. That will be the defining proof that winter is finally on the way out, and better weather is ahead.
My delight that spring is almost here has always been a happy time for me, although spring, this year, will also be the first anniversary of my youngest son Tony’s death. That proves difficult to overcome, for my own sense of loss, and equally for the huge ‘hole’ it has caused in my sweet daughter-in-law, Natasha’s life: for her and her family. Such deep loss takes time to move through. Tears are never far away. The aloneness that she experiences is a gnawing ‘pain’ that refuses to retreat, and there is little one can do to help. Each one of my immediate family is still moving through as best as we can. Just doing what needs to be done to keep going. Tough but we have to do it.
So, the arrival of spring will be a great joy as always, when I see the garden come alive again, and hear the sounds of the birds through open windows. But, understandably, it will be a time of sorrow and nostalgia, remembering what we have lost, but thankful for who, and what, we still have.
Let me know if you see or hear that first robin. Your message will be music to my ears.
Blessings to you,