All my life I have had this rather odd indifference toward spring. That probably sounds strange. I just never associated it with anything specific. I guess for me it has always been this thing I casually get through, the transition from winter to summer, two seasons I love very much.
Fall and winter suit me. Nothing speaks to my homebody ways like a cold, rainy day or night. What is better than a fire, a blanket, a cozy sweater and a loved one by your side? And yet I love summer just as much. Maybe because I am a tropical girl in spirit. Growing up in Hawaii and California has a way of making you fall in love with the sun, sand and outdoors. Not to mention wearing as few clothes as possible.
Two extremes. The paradox of my life.
So for me, spring has always been that odd man out, so to speak. But that’s not to say it doesn’t have a place in my heart. It always has, really. And this year it feels different, as if I recognize that love I have for it for the very first time. I am at a point in my life where I can see the magic in every day and every season. A moment, a day or a time of year does not have to be a momentous production, nor does it need an elaborate memory attached to it to hold significance in one’s heart. Anything is what you make it. I have been creating memories and the significance of things all my life. And in that regard, spring is really no different from my beloved fall, winter and summer.
Pretty pastel colors. Blooming gardens and longer days. The joy of planning a summer getaway. Moving the cashmere, velvet and wool sweaters out of the way, and giving my light and brighter clothes their long overdue marquee spot in the closet. My beloved sequined black velvet ballet flats acquiesce to my bright, flowery sandals. It is the natural order of things, really. Our bodies, and even our emotions, just know it is time to approach the world differently.
I think my nonchalance toward spring really came to an end when I saw the beautiful flowers displayed in the grocery store right before St. Patrick’s Day. While technically it was still winter at that time, the new season was less than one week away. I spied a lovely pink tulip. And then a yellow one. And a purple one. And then I saw the pale violet hue of the hyacinths. The shocking orange of the calla lilies. I began to deeply contemplate the vibrant color of every flower. The odd yet fascinating shape of the pussy willows. And I was so grateful for what my eyes could see and what my brain could sense, and the unexpected appreciation of how these beautiful things around me came to be. How it all begins as a seed nurtured in the earth and then in its glory finds its way to us. Splashes of light in an often dismal world.
This weekend is a sacred one to many. From Holy Thursday to Good Friday and Easter Sunday, the two billion Christians of the world will heed the true message of the holiday. For me and mine, the focus is family, good food and a celebration of all we are thankful for.
Easter memories are special ones. When I was little, I always had a beautiful dress to wear and a gigantic basket of candy and gifts waiting for me when I woke up. All courtesy of The Bunny of course. And the morning always involved an Easter egg hunt of epic proportions. We don’t have any little ones in our world, at least at this time, so we won’t be having that one-for-the-ages egg hunt this year. Well, actually we can do whatever we choose. Nearly 40 years old, and I just might be on my knees in the grass, searching for eggs on Sunday morning.
At the very least, I will be content with my many beautiful memories. My father always loved to dye eggs. Those reflections of his excitement over such a seemingly simple thing are especially cherished now. He passed away in 2010. When we gather on Saturday and dye eggs together as a family, he will be close to all of us in heart and mind.
And we will be busy making new memories. We have Grace this year, her first Easter with us. The dogs naturally are very excited. All we have to do is say “Bunny coming!” and clap our hands, and they run crazy through the house. The Bunny will certainly come calling, bringing favorite treats and cool things to play with.
My wishes for all of you:
A giant chocolate bunny to bite the ears off of.
The enjoyment and company of many loved ones.
Happy Easter everyone, to you and yours.