It’s a beautiful spring day here — after yesterday’s gloomy April showers.  There’s just a tiny bit of snow pack left between houses.  This morning’s smells make me think of the forsythia bush next to 20 New St where often when spring broke out my children could be found setting up house.  It also reminds me of the days when my first born, and for a short while, only child, would burst outdoors at our house in Monroe looking for the neighbor to ride trikes in the driveway (what was his name?  It was an odd one for a little boy — Dukey?)

Spring is always welcome; but too often reminds me of the passage of time — one that I like least the older I get.  But at least I’ll fix it with a good long walk this afternoon after work.  April brings Easter and Passover with many other memories, as well as the memories I have of my mother.  She’s not up for the task these days; but they are none the worse for that.  She once told me of a new dress she got for Easter one year as a small girl (no small thing when you are one of twelve being raised by a widowed mother.)  Spring also reminds me of my Easter dresses — just about the only time of year I got a new dress, and new shoes!  My favorite part of Easter was those new shoes – I was fond of the basket of candy, and the Easter Egg hunt (in the living room which inevitably resulted in one unfound egg found later in the day by an Uncle who sat on the couch in just the right way).

I still don’t mind a little bit of a gift of candy; but as I age, I appreciate more the gathering of friends and family that marks the passage of a hard winter and the possibilities of the fresh goodness of the spring and summer ahead.  This year there is a strong possibility that my grandchild will bring her and her Mom living next door.  What changes are in store?  I don’t know for sure; likely all kinds of adjustments and living a new rhythm.  But, best of all, I look forward to watching a child who has announced it is spring burst outdoors and set up house under a forsythia bush (one I have in the ready at the boundary line).

?

I know child.  She’s busy with her work.

I want some milk.

I know child.  Here’s milk, cheddar crackers, and fish sticks.

I want to go outside.

I know child.  The fair, the ice cream, the duck pond, the lakeside.

I want to color.

I know child.  Crayons, paper, too much tape.

I want my toy.

I know child.  Stuffed animals, blocks, and fancy shoes.

I miss my Mom.

I know child.  I miss mine too.

We came with the purpose of visiting my mother who turns 83 next week.  She’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and so much family conversation and some difficult and important decisions have to be made.  The real challenge for me is that my mother would like me to believe that she’s well; and I would like to honor that and treat her with dignity; and yet how do I broach some of the decisions  that need to be made : maybe not possible.  But for today, it was a delight to watch her play with her great-granddaughter.

Life is, indeed, bittersweet.