My First Days of Spring

 I'm freshly-home from the latest week in Charleston. This time the children and I stayed in a hotel because Dad's was overbooked! My sister and my aunt were there, and it was nice to see them.

I spent a bit of time poking around in the attic, starting the cleaning-out process.  I found some treasures belonging to one of my cousins, who was serendipitously just disembarking at the port of Charleston after a cruise in the Bahamas. He came by and picked up his old yearbooks, slides, trumpets, etc. on the way home after his trip. I found more old patterns I need to examine (next time) as well as some fabric.  My aunt found her favorite baby doll from yesteryear.  I triaged some of my dad's guitar accessories and guns for him to look at later, and took a photographic inventory of all the framed paintings and prints that are up there.  It rained most of the day yesterday and it was very cozy to be up there, wearing my headlamp and listening to the rain hit the roof just above my head.  

My Dad continues to amaze us all with how well he is doing. I've never seen anyone so robust during chemo.  His hearty appetite, good cheer, and positive attitude continually inspire me! It's just such a blessing and an answer to prayer. Thank you, Lord, for these gifts.

The azaleas aren't quite all the way out yet, but things are still looking pretty in the Lowcountry. And spring is officially here! This winter was hard; January in particular was a very, very difficult month.  It was cold, it was sad, it was stressful.  Dad was in and out of the hospital three times, and I caught covid.  I comforted myself with the knowledge that the beauty and grace of spring would come again. I knew the daffodils would bloom.  The air would grow mild.  The snow and ice would melt.  People would start to heal. 

Now I'm home for another 16 or so days, and back south for Holy Week. Spring, I welcome you!