Earlier this year and much improved over last year's single blossom, the dogwood burst into bloom yesterday. Record-breaking temperatures over the weekend must have played a part . The tree could use a bit of shaping, but I didn't want to clip a single bud, because last year's poor showing left me feeling a bit deprived. I don't suffer deprivation gracefully.
And the robins are at work on the front lawn which has just had its second mowing of the season. These signs of new life and hope propel me through these early April weeks which are so hard for me. I try to tell myself it's just another day, but my heart doesn't listen. I found myself in tears a good part of the day, the tenth anniversary of Robin's death. I didn't even mention the significance of the day to the boys and no one in my circle mentioned it. Perhaps it is blending into the fabric of the lives of most people. For me, every moment, every breath is loaded with symbolism, memory, pain. The rain was the angels' tears. The thunder evoked the terrible storm on the night of her death. Each breath I took reminded me that she no longer breathed. Her smile, her mind, her coloring, and so many other gifts are stamped on the boys and I see her reflection in every gesture.