A Jumbled Brain

Outside it is sprinter. It's the season of late winter, early spring that can only happen in a place like Wisconsin.

There is snow and tulips mingled together.

So deep am I in the red clay of Atlanta with Scarlett, that it seems as though I can harldy breathe in. To look out the window and see snow drifts and spring birds is complety shocking.

Birds there are. It's the one way we know that we will really come through the other side of this particular winter season.

Yesterday afternoon I saw the cardinal and his mate, hunkered down under the big pine in the back yard. A few days prior, The Mr. saw the blue jay. As I stood under the heat lamp after my shower I could hear the doves.

Spring is under the snow. Just as it always is. Even if the tulips and crocuses are frozen off and the daffidols stunted, spring is still there.

Last night I watched a video of a long past event at my fomer home church in the MadCity. It was such a clear moment of the truth in statements like, "you can never go home again". We all know you do go home again, but you can never recapture and have again what you once had.

What made it doubly bittersweet, was that at the same moment the video was being sent to me, my high school kids from my current church group were calling me. They were planning a social for the last day of their spring break and wanted to include my family.

What I miss of my church in Madison was a simple sweetness of life that existed only in that moment of time. We had come through so much and were given the most precious respite. When the time came to go, we were able.