It’s Saturday, and even though it’s April there’s snow coming down and piling up. I’m pretty sick of winter, as is everyone else who lives on the East Coast, and I wish that I could just curl up on the couch under my duvet today, a book in hand or a documentary on the telly and copious amounts of hot coco on the coffee table. Add the cat on my feet or my stomach and you’ve got what’s pretty much my ideal snow day.
Alas, the cat had to go to the vet today for a dental procedure that’s going to fix an abscess in one of his back teeth, and I had to get up at 6:00 this morning to get him to the vet in time for his 7:30 appointment. Back home and fully awake now, I have until 11:00 to do what I want before heading off to my retail job. And right after that I’ll be heading to the Basilica to celebrate the Easter Vigil.
From my couch in the living room, through the big windows I can see the snow falling down. Only three days ago on my walk to and from work, I was able to see tentative green things – the crocuses and snowdrops that mark the end of winter – coming up in the postage-stamp gardens all along my street. Now they’re all buried under a cold blanket of snow again, and they’ll have to wait another week before they can continue growing.
I feel like those crocuses and snowdrops at the moment. I feel like I am constantly being reburied under snow as I struggle to grow, and I long to feel life inside me every day when I wake up. Most days that feeling takes a while to kick in, but I remember how it felt to wake up with it already there, its grip on me firm and strong the moment my eyes opened.
Healing is a tricky business. I do have my faith and I do trust and hope in God, but as the saying goes, “God helps those who help themselves.” And as much as I keep stumbling on the hard path set before me, I know I have to keep pushing through every day.
I’m looking for things to look forward to. My upcoming move into a new apartment helps keep me busy when I’m at home for long stretches of time, and I know that when I really get deep into the whole business of it all I’ll have the opportunity to make as fresh a start as possible. I signed up for a pottery class that starts in May, and there’s always work and the cat to get me out of bed in the morning.
It’s hard, though. It’s hard waking up and facing a day without somebody you love. It’s hard to look outside the window and see the snow, and feel like change really is in the air or around the corner.
But life exists, even under the snow: deep in the ground, it waits for the opportune moment. I know that deep in my heart, there’s a little bundle of life waiting to grow…I just have to hold on through every sudden snowstorm until it’s sunny again.