Oh March, how you've held us in your icy clutches. You were long. You were cold. You made us all want to do nothing but sit and wish you gone. Lucy spent most of her days changing from leotard to swimsuit, swimsuit back to leotard, blowing out fake birthday candles--"I wish it was spring, mama." I spent too much time this month wishing for quick time passage, too. We had a trip to D.C. planned for the very last weekend. Could you come faster?. Visiting my sister, visiting some dear friends. The kites, of course. And cherry blossoms--which weren't--because they too have been hiding from the cold.
One morning in late March, Lucy lingered over freshly-peeled citrus on the breakfast table and I could hear Bryan quietly singing Skinny Love in the shower. Although each blade of grass in our yard was stiff with ice, I could take a deep breath and find bliss. Bliss that always was available. Bliss that will always be available.
March, you may have been alright after all.