At eight months I think I'm capable of looking ahead again.
I leave hesitate to declare that with certainty because I know that I've been fooled before.
Fall and winter allow you to shut down, to hibernate, to cover your head in the blankets and just get by from day to day. But now spring has begun to spring and I feel as though the universe is insisting that I take a deep breath of the fresh air, soak up the warmth of the sunshine and take some pleasure in the world around me once again.
Spring was Mom's favourite season. I remember her talking about how much she loved to see all the different shades of vibrant green in her garden. She worked hard on that garden.
I had never taken any notice of the progression of spring growth until I heard Mom that day.
She is so much a part of all the things I am.
So spring is difficult too. I find myself encountering a lot of "lasts" that didn't affect me in fall or winter. I existed in such a daze through those dead seasons that I was not plagued by distinct memories of seasons past. Spring has awakened those.
It feels like spring is the last season that I remember spending real time with Mom. She was so busy in those last few months. Of course I'm haunted by this every time I remember her.
The beach, the garden, the dogs, the family gatherings. They all are overlayed with the last time with Mom.
It hurts but I am so lucky to have so many memories to recall so very easily - or at least I know that in time I will be comforted by that fact.