So close I can taste it

Today felt like spring. It was a warmth seeping into your soul, bluebird on your shoulder, awakening from a deep winter slumber kind of day. And it was goooood.

I didn't do anything different (laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning, cooking and a little crocheting) but Ifelt different. There was the promise of warmer days, blooming gardens, fresh cut grass and the first BBQ of the season hanging thickly in the almost-spring air, soothing me from the inside out.

I even threw open the front window to let some of the warmer, fresh air into the house which (save for our bedroom window which I insist has to be open at least a crack lest I perish from lack of oxygen) has been sealed up like a tomb since the fall.

The faint smell of spring revived me. I live for days like these. Even a hundred years ago when I had no idea what real sorrow was, I lived for days like these.

However, as much as I love it, Spring is now a bit of a double edged sword. That first delicious break in the unbearable cold also means that Thomas' birthday is just around the corner. As are the impossibly difficult memories that resurface unbidden, the renewal of my deepest sorrows, and the endless what ifs that rattle around in my brain. And yes, the celebration of a tiny life that has touched mine in ways I will never, ever be able to articulate.

I'm extremely lucky that spring, by its very nature, also brings the promise of new life. A fresh start. New gardens to plan. Brighter evenings. Longer days.

And, if the doctor's office ever calls me back, laparoscopic surgery.

The fun never stops.

I have no idea what the future holds anymore and I can't even begin to speculate, but at least I know that every once in a while I'll get a day like today - and that days like today still have the power to revive my spirits.

I can live on that for weeks.