Life goes forward, sometimes it feels as if in leaps and bounds. Spring is in the air. The temperate weather is softly speaking to me, promising a new beginning; a better time ahead. I normally never trust whispered promises, but I will make an exception and grasp the hint of spring with both of my hands. Yet, I know winter will have at least one more wallop, but I'll bob and weave and not let it touch me.
The true harbinger of spring would be the shedding of their thick winter coats. The horses know something, as the hair is coming out in big, fluffy clumps. At the end of the day my coat looks like a patchwork of multi-colors of fur as they brush against me on the way in and out of the barn. Although a messy time, the peeks of sleek, shiny bodies under the warm, thick hair is always something that gives me a tingle of glee. Spring cannot be far off. Several feet of snow on the ground says different, but the horses are my seers.
So I am slowly entering the land of the living, back to a normal routine, with bits of my mother's life tossed in. I don't know if she will come out the other side whole. We, her friends and family, can offer support, but she will need to put something into it as well. I'm not sure she believes she can, so I'm not sure she will try. I hope for her sake she does. Life under the mantle of persistent grief becomes a dreadful chore; for the wearer as well as the watcher.
But spring is in the air, with its promise of an awakening earth, so if this frozen bit of land can change its scape so dramatically in a month's time.... anything should be possible in the world.