Ok February, I know that you and I don’t have a healthy relationship. For me, you have come to represent a hardship to be endured, one that I mentally parcel out into discrete milestones: the Superbowl (getting started!), Valentine’s Day (halfway!), the Oscars (almost done!), despite the fact that not a single one of those milestones carries any meaning to me personally.
I don’t know when this silent duel began but I do know that it reached it’s peak a year ago when g was hospitalized. I’ll admit that I’m still struggling to forgive that offense. And yet there is something about this year that makes me believe that there is hope for us yet. Maybe it is the fact that we’ve had something that we Californians can justify calling a “winter”. Maybe it’s something about the way that I can detect the subtle changes in light quality in recent days. But this year I honestly feel like I can see you for what you are, perhaps for the first time- much more than just a prolonged period of short days and nasty viruses, you are a necessary moment of transition, a critical passage in the progression toward spring.
It’s not only the toddlers among us who struggle to embrace the meaning of transition. We all like tidy definitions- winter/spring, young/old. But life doesn’t comply. And so I see now that you, February, and I have more in common than I previously understood.
This year I’ve decided to embrace you. I hope to approach you as a time to prepare, an opportunity to act. I have plans – for the garden, for my home, for my self. But I’ll admit that I’m not terribly wedded to outcomes. For better and worse I will probably be quite busy in the coming days. To be honest, my “plans” have much more to do with our relationship than they do with any measurements of productivity. I honestly want to repair some of the damage between us.
And I sincerely hope that you will be inclined to reciprocate.