There is a song that I love and in it the lyrics say, "I've felt the coldness of my Winter". I have sang that many times and thought I knew what the words meant. At this moment, in my part of the world it is Springtime. Many areas are still dealing with a late Winter, causing people to wonder when the beauty of Spring will come and the Sun will shine upon their faces and bodies.
I want to share something with you. For the last while, I have been secretly wishing Spring away. I have been content in my Winter. With the dark hours and safety of my dwelling, I am in my little cocoon. Safe. When the rays of sunshine began to peak out and the days grew longer, my heart was filled with anxiety. I looked outside my window...
I thought about how my husband was a 'Boy of Summer'. His tan skin and sparkling eyes, like water. He enjoyed every moment in the sunshine. I used to be the same as he. We both would awake in the early morning hours and work in our yard. Silent, yet somehow dancing to our own music. We, together, were ambitious in seizing the day. Working hard to preserve our simple home and encouraging the flowers to bloom. As the days grew warmer, we ended our daily dance by jumping in the river. Soothing and sweet the water rushing through us. Then, we lazily ended our day blissfully lying around, looking at the birds and the sky. Talking about this and that.
As I looked outside my window, maybe I saw him in everything Spring. Maybe I was scared that somehow, I must step outside and find the gumption to work on all the unfinished projects that were left behind. Maybe, I was scared of what others would see of me. Could they see how alone and afraid I felt? I couldn't have that. It overwhelmed me. I walked away from the window and wished Spring away. I want to snuggle back into my quilt and stay there.
Days grew warmer and I stayed in my quilt. It is a conscious decision. I know, because I contemplated the repercussions of withdrawing from the world. It would surely take it's toll on my body and health. My spirit and creativity. But, I didn't know how to start.
In a moment of giving up or maybe it was reaching out, I grabbed the phone book and called a landscaper. I know it doesn't sound very profound. But, it took a lot to just do that. In some ways, I had to admit to myself that I could not do it all. The gentleman came out and I showed him all of the unfinished projects around the house. He wrote me a bid. "Excuse Me?" I thought when I saw the price. I let him know I would sleep on it. That night, I held the bid in my hands and mentally asked for guidance from my husband. I didn't receive an answer, but knew if he had been here, he would say, "What are you doing? You know I can do all that!" ~But You are not here. As I looked at everything listed, I chose the top two priorities and the next day, called the landscaper back to schedule the work.
In the meantime, I put on my gardening shoes. Found my old gloves and stepped outside to work on the other items that I could not afford. I felt the Sun on my face and my hands in the dirt. I worked and worked and the kids joined me. I worked until my bones ached. But, it felt good. I continued to add to my list and today I feel the glory of the day. I see the birds flying and beautiful sky. I feel closer to my husband. Each day, I wake up and can't wait to meander around the yard. I feel a lightness in my heart. It feels like living.
Sometimes, it is true that it takes just one, little, tiny action to get the ball rolling. It gains momentum and the 'Coldness of my Winter' has passed ~At least for this day, and today is all that matters.
Sometimes the first step is the hardest. I understand. Losing someone we love, and living each day as best we can becomes such a delicate balancing act. Glad you felt the warmth of the sun!
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