Choosing Spring
As Dad, Big Bro and I stood at the grave-site, with the 15 year reminder of her departure encompassing our thoughts, the words I’ve repeated time after time after time again
tumbled out once more
I am not there. I do not sleep.
But for whatever reason, this day, I added … If given a choice, I hope I leave in the spring … Said mainly to myself, but as we made our way to the car and home, a bit louder, I continued … Let’s see. Mom, Gramma, Granny, both Grandpas, a few aunts and a couple uncles … and yep, we concluded, quite a few of our family have left this life in Spring.
As our conversation shifted to just how much Big Bro really, really, REALLY loves the sacred rituals of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter, the tear-filled eyes of this quiet soul, who often keeps feelings to himself, said everything I needed to know. And as the clouds opened up and those predicted showers poured down, as the birds carried on with their song despite the raindrops, as the greens and blues and pastels of nature oh sooooo patiently waited to burst into action, and the drumbeat of I am not there, I do not sleep danced through my brain … the beautiful realization of why Jesus chose Spring, surrounded me in joy
& wow, my friend.
WoW.
♥