We waited in a line for the car wash today that was 10 cars long. 35 minutes, sipping my decaf iced coffee, listening to Ellie chatter in the backseat about how, now that she’s three, she’s brave in the car wash. When she was two, she tells me, it was too scary but now, well, now three means that she isn’t afraid anymore.
“Mom? Maddie’s mom died and now she lives with God,” she tells me. “And I’m going die too, someday. And who else lives with God?”
I took a long sip after that question. Seven cars in front of us still. I guess we’re having that conversation. Again.
Winters are harsh in Chicago. The wind chill, the salt on the roads… But now, there is a palpable energy in the air. SPRING. It’s 30 degrees warmer today than we have felt in months. There is sunshine. There are puddles. I’m sitting by the back door watching Ellie play outside. She’s still wearing a coat and picking up what is left of the (filthy) snow, but when her cabin fever got to be too much, it didn’t take me 20 minutes to bundle her up enough to send her out the door.
John, too, is suddenly out of the winter funk. As soon as he saw a 50 in the forecast, his winter doldrums switch flipped off. He’s barely cognizant of his 30th birthday coming up in a couple of days. He is, quite literally, ecstatic. He’s always been this way.
I’m more cautious with my optimism than the rest of our little family. It has been a long winter and I’m not convinced that she won’t rear her ugly head yet again. But still, I’ll wash the road salt off the car and pack away a few of the heaviest sweaters, hopeful that we have turned the corner for good.
For what it’s worth, I’m thankful for the winter. It makes the spring so much more special. Such is life.
One year ago…
The first trek out was considerably calmer than the afternoon madness.
Yo soy La Lay 