We have been ill a lot this last month. One could say the whole month, though technically it was not, of course. We’ve been passing it on one to another back and forth. I would use a sports metaphor here, except i was never too much into sports, least of all those collective ball games, so my mind goes quite blank when i try think of one.
When I think back to this past month, it seems like a blur of sickness and tiredness. And it brought us some very unexpected bigger grief than we would have imagined from it.
All of this month it seemed to me almost as if time stood still. It definitely seems like it on my working-table, which still has the same fabrics, patterns and tools on it, almost frozen the same position as i left it the morning on the day when i suddenly fell ill.
Even nature seemed to be frozen on the verge of spring, as if unsure if it was yet time to bloom or not. As if waiting for something. Something to happen? Something to come? Something to be put at the altar of sacrifice first, before it could begin? Something has to die before another life can grow? Is this not the way of nature?
But yesterday i felt a change. A shift in the wind (to use an almost Tolkien-ish metaphor this time.. ha, something I’m more familiar with than sports). To the better i hope. To health. To life. I saw nature waking up after all. The first tree starting to bloom.
Spring is coming. This is always a happy time for me. Especially since the birth of my little Joy-giver. She is the life after the winter. The little bundle of joy that keeps me on my feet.
And time will start moving again.