A Whisper Of Hope

English: A photo of a cup of coffee. Esperanto...

English: A photo of a cup of coffee. Esperanto: Taso de kafo. Français : Photo d’une tasse de caffé Español: Taza de café (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

After the longest Winter I have ever been through, today was like an unexpected present. I woke up to the smell of hot, strong coffee and a sky of blue. The temperatures were in the high 50’s and for those of us in the North East, it felt like we were at the beach.

It didn’t even matter that the temperature was supposed to drop dramatically tomorrow, I didn’t even care. Because what we were given was a look into the future, our bedraggled souls were given a treat, a tiny word that packs a punch: HOPE.

I was able to go out and walk by myself in town, stop by a shop and wave to a friend, I noticed things that I haven’t seen, having been locked up in my bedroom for months.  A young woman with very curly hair smiled at me and I smiled back, I held the door for a very appreciative young mom with twins, she smiled her thanks, I nodded and smiled back.

In one way, having children 21 months apart seems like a lifetime ago, now they are 19 and 21. I remember back to my double stroller, heavy, blue and white where my son and daughter sat and I pushed and pushed around the corner, meeting a good friend and her daughter.

Life goes by so quickly, even for my kids, they tell me, but sometimes the days are so long.

I came home today from a lovely dinner with my husband from a text message from my best friend, saying her uterine biopsy results were negative. I stood still, I was absolutely paralyzed with joy. And, I did what I usually do, whether I am sad or happy, I cried and thanked the Powers that Be.

I left a message for my friend, I’m not sure she will understand the words but she will get the emotion, my tears well up even now when I think about it. She’s been through too much already.

Spring is around the corner, I saw a red robin today and my husband bought me red tulips that we can plant once the ground is not frozen anymore.

Thank you for this day, for waking up to a sky of blue to finding an apple scone to eat with tomorrow’s coffee, for all my blood work out of my hands and the time in-between.

For a rare glimpse of what Springs looks like if we are patient.

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Haiku Heights – (Open Prompt) Spring

crocus

crocus (Photo credit: polkadotsoph)

Spring

I’ve longed for you, dear

old bones ache, lips parched, depressed

A purple crocus.

Yellow Magic Madness #6

I was so hoping to post a photo of yellow flowers or budding trees but I have to be honest, they are not out yet and I am being true to my self (even though I feel like screaming and pounding my fists this winter feels so LONG!). The cold winds are still blowing right through me and sometimes I find comfort in a cup of apple spice tea or plain tea with milk and touch of honey. Sit on a comfy chair, put your head back, throw a multi-colored quilt around you, join me in a cup of tea from my yellow teapot and slowly sip. Spring is coming, very, very soon. I promise.

English: A yellow ceramic teapot against a sto...

English: A yellow ceramic teapot against a stone floor, taken by CGS. Public domain. Commons:Category:Yellow Commons:Category:Teapots (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

February, Freezing

Weber Grill

Weber Grill (Photo credit: Moomettes)

Charles River, 3 February 2010: Thicker ice ag...

Charles River, 3 February 2010: Thicker ice again, and snow-covered under cloudy grey skies (Photo credit: Chris Devers)

It is gray, gloomy, my mood matches what I see, another storm approaching wet, wintry, cold ice, it pushes my hopeful thoughts of Spring and red tulips further back in my exhausted brain. I long to paint my toes pink, to wear flip-flops that go clickety-clack on the street, even imagining that sound in my head makes me grin. Foolishly, I’m dreaming about back yard barbeques, the smell of food grilling, earning its succulent stripes, that charcoal smell, chicken, corn, cheese burgers, hot dogs. We always have way too much food when we have friends and family over for a BBQ: potato salad, coleslaw, fresh, crispy bread, four different kinds of cheese, at room temperature, salsa and bread, mozzarella and tomato salad with a drizzle of olive oil and fresh, fragrant basil. Hummus and pita triangles and fresh vegetables and dip for our own vegetarians. Potato chips, pretzels to tide us over, pasta salad too with veggies chopped up so fine you can barely see them. We’re always too full for dessert but that passes quickly. The dessert table includes: chocolate mousse cake for the chocolate lovers, vanilla and coconut cake freshly baked brownies, my home-made banana bread with chocolate chips and raisins, fruit salad, a cherry and apple pie. Marshmallows are a given; I like mine burnt completely on the outside, charred, the inside still gooey, runny and soft. Ice cream is in the freezer just waiting to jump out and join us.

I am so happy and…oh wait, I forgot. It’s still February and ice is hitting the windows like little rocks of torture. Reality is difficult. The gusts of wind are my enemy. Let me keep dreaming, please but I know I can’t. I don’t want to leave the house in this cold weather with my bones and muscles stiff. The tender points all over my body from Fibromyalgia are raw with pain, even if I brush against someone’s sleeve. Shoulders lifted, up high, stuck in tension, held in place like soldiers in the military, standing in front of their Sergeant, First Class, saying ‘Yes, Sir, No Sir.” On demand,  feeling unnaturally stiff, not able to make a move, praying they won’t have to sneeze or cough. There is no room for error.

I am staying up late tonight, I smile because it’s my favorite time, 11:11pm.; what a gift to see that on my clock. Somehow, 11:11 AM just doesn’t do it for me. I miss sleeping deeply, the way I was able to do, now I sleep lightly and it is not restful. I don’t know if it’s aging or a medication or a phase but I don’t like it. Maybe if I stay up really late, my sleep will be deeper, my dreams fanciful and memorable, in shades of purple and pink and yellow. Of course, yellow.

It’s been a long winter already, and it continues, I know it’s just February but it seems like it’s been February forever. The weeks seem to go by fairly quickly but the months drag as if they are ground in cement. They drag on like a tired tortoise in heavy, deep, wet sand, barely moving a centimeter every few hours. I know the lesson, I do, we have no choice but to accept it even if we feel angry or impatient, Mother Nature wins. I need to slow down, my impatience will not do me any good. I will try another approach, perhaps I will make lentil soup or pea, start to read another book, listen to music and be grateful I can stay inside today, in a warm house, cooking, cleaning and stroking my red dog’s fur.

Spring will surprise us when it’s ready, not when we are, that we know for sure.