new seasons


i never cared that much for spring..i still love the fall better but i now find my heart and hopes flutter at the start of spring. i think part of it is growing up.  as you get older and realize that you’re truly getting older and there’s no going back, the cliche of the ‘promise of spring’ becomes less cliche and more immediate.  i had my surgery in late november.  i felt fine on my birthday in mid-october (2005); found a lump the next week; diagnosed the following week; surgery in late-november and then started chemo in mid-january.  i know that there are some people who breeze through chemo.  i was not one of them.  it takes me months – oh, let’s face it, sometimes years – to understand some life concepts.  being told that i had cancer was not a concept i integrated in a few months.  i could barely acknowledge it as i was forced to sign living wills and negotiate to not have a chemo port installed.  i had so much anxiety that i willingly and gratefully ingested xanax after xanax just so that i could breathe – or some semblance of breathing – hour to hour.  i fell down an emotional rabbit hole so deep that the nurses climbed down, hooked up the iv, and then climbed out again while i looked at the deep walls of the hole around me.  i had a few very very very very dear work friends who kept me going, who made me work, who made me attempt to function.  Perhaps they saw what i could not.  that i would find the ladder up and out.  if i can do for someone else what they did for me that year, then i will truely be on my way to being a good person. 

during the spring – i sat every day that i could very quietly with my little cotton-rimmed cap on my very bald head on my back rocking bench.  and i watched my garden come to life.  i have a little garden by many standards.  brooklyn yards mostly don’t come large.  but i had slowly worked over the years to change this sad and swampy mosh pit into a welcoming garden.  and the odd and offbeat reward, that spring, sitting on my back rocking bench with no hair and my cotton-rimmed cap on was to be able to be more still than i had ever been.  to see the sprouting of my garden.  to see the start of it’s above-ground life as it budded and stretched it’s many vines.  i saw something i would never have seen otherwise.  this growing jewel.  in the past, i never cared that much for spring..i still love the fall better but i now find my heart and hopes flutter at the start of spring.



One Response to new seasons

  1. Kathryn says:

    Hmmm – I’m an October birthday girl too and always loved fall best. That has changed for me too though. Spring has lengthening days, emerging flowers, and the promise of summer. Maybe it’s just that I don’t like winter as much as I did when I was younger.

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