Monday, March 29, 2010

Brought to You by the Letter W


Ok, before we start in on the [W] word for this week… let’s all acknowledge the fact that it won’t be WIN. :) But I’m so proud of my Panthers and love that we had such a winning season! Thanks for rooting with me, peeps… I loved all the messages on Twitter!!!

Now… onto today’s word:


There is nothing better than that moment, right before the spring of the year officially hits, when sunshine suddenly begins peeking through the clouds. It begins to rain more than it snows and, like magic, green grass appears from under the layers of frozen ice. The brown, wilted grass that was first covered in white flakes springs forth in a subtle green after so many months of being frozen, and then hydrated by the melting drifts.

It’s so hopeful.

And I was a bit surprised by myself that this year, it’s made me a little wistful.

I’m so used to being inside all of the time these past few years… it honestly doesn’t bother me that much anymore. I no longer catch myself thinking that I should open the windows and get some fresh air in the house. I don’t randomly wonder if I should go out to start the car [that’s no longer in the garage] to make sure the battery hasn’t died. I don’t even catch myself thinking I should walk down the hall to fetch the mail.

I’m totally used to life existing in these four walls.

But now that the sunshine is peeking out and I see people in the parking lot with just a sweatshirt or a spring jacket, I feel a bit wistful. I close my eyes and imagine myself stepping out onto my patio for just a moment to feel that sunshine… to see the glow of orange on the inside of my eyelids that only happens when my face is turned upward toward the sunlight. Suddenly the memory of it seems a little weak compared to what the reality would bring me.

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I kept thinking all winter that I couldn’t wait for the grey skies to fade away and reveal that brilliant blue… for the snow drifts to melt and my hasta to grow so I’d have a good reason to open the curtains. But I find myself keeping my bamboo shades drawn, allowing me to see outside, but with a barrier in between. Some part of me knows that if I open them wide and take in the view, I’m going to go from wistful to wanting.


Riley understands the feeling.

I thought I was past all of that, but then realized that last summer wasn’t so much about acceptance as it was inability. I was too sick to keep my eyes open. I was in too much pain to move, let alone walk into this room and open the shades. I kind of missed the existence of summer altogether, and by the time I could move the snow had already fallen. So, I find myself a bit wistful for walks with the pup and long afternoons of reading on my patio.

But before long, I am sure, I will be opening the shade and trying to keep Riley from disrupting the entire building as he barks at the birds and tries to leap through the window at the passersby. We will adjust as we always do and the sunshine will just be that thing beyond the window.

For now… we’ll keep our wistful barrier up and wait for the day I open the shade without thinking of stepping out onto the other side of the door. Riley, on the other hand, will always believe he will someday make it beyond the boundary of his window.

I do admire his spunk. :)

divider red

a to z

People, we are almost done with the alphabet! How crazy is that?!?! Leave me an [X] suggestion for next week’s post in the comment section… and also let me know if you’d like to start the alphabet over again or if I should try to come up with a new way of you all suggesting topics.

I’m always open to ideas! :)

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