Even better, on Ally McBeal tonight, Calista Flockhart looked fat. I’m taking my joy where I can get it these days, thanks.
My beloved grandma died on Leap Year’s Day. Even now the thought immediately summons congestion to my sinuses.
“I love you.”
“I’m praying for you, Grandma.”
I looked into her face and hugged her.
That was Sunday. She died Tuesday, Leap Year’s Day. It is a testament to her perpetual ladyhood that her family will only have to commemorate the day of her death every fourth year.
Everyone’s been really nice about it. I heard from a lot of people in my church. My senior pastor’s sister used to live in the same apartment building and it was nice to meet her.
With funerals come family, too. I had the opportunity to acquaint myself with my uncle who works at the Grand Canyon National Park, and a schoolchum of his who now writes for the Oakland Tribune. I even got to celebrate Grandma’s remaining living sister’s 94th birthday, complete with yum-yum cake and bingo.
But oh God, I miss her so much. So much that even my first-serious and only-ever live-in boyfriend sent me a sympathy card that was so sweet, so heartfelt that it made me cry.
Crying has been a big theme of this year. D and I no longer speak to each other. Ending our 5-year friendship and most of our professional association left a void, but it was time.
Robin’s visit coincided with the initial month of separation, which helped immensely. I think I miss the French one more than the American. Whatever.
I did have a fun day last Monday, though. My friend Katherine’s cousin was in town so the three of us did something I’ve never done — we went to Alcatraz! The audio tour was terrific, lots of cell doors clanging shut in your ears as you wander the block.
Then after I got home, John drove me to Watercourse Way for a massage.
So I’m back. No permanent damage, though I’m still a little tender around the edges and am sniffling a bit more than usual. But that’s OK. Winter is gone — the winter of nature and the winter of spirit and experience. I welcome the spring, with the promise of more guitar playing and sailboat lessons and sun until late in the evening.
I sent Virtual Flowers to a few special people today and would like to share the Scripture portion of my messages with you: “for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.” The Song of Solomon 2:11-12
I wish you all a joyful, renewing, song-filled, healthy Springtime.