I don't remember much about the last Spring season aside from just trying to put one foot in front of the other as I battled through the early stages of grief. The Easter aisles as well as the decorations in the supermarkets give me pause as I navigate quickly past them, frightened of the memories that might come flooding back. I could hardly step into the supermarkets at this time last year without feeling like I was about to lose it. Reminders of what I'd just lost slapping me in the face at every turn. I do not wish to revive these illicit thoughts and feelings.
Earlier this week, I was riveted by the white blooming flowers that had begun adorning the trees. How had I not noticed them in the days before? It's as though they had so slyly started budding. Faintly and slowly, making it difficult to notice until obvious.
Spring is here. Winter storms may be bound to return, as they do year after year but as the grass grows greener, as tulips begin to break through the ground and as the trees continue to bud, hope floats. Life is renewing. A scary thought in many ways. Alternatively, a true form of inspiration to build on.
As Spring insidiously makes it's presence known, I hold on to my memories of Preston and make way for the rainbows that are about to adorn the sky and hopefully, my life as a whole.
No comments:
Post a Comment