Spring Ahead…Fall Back

I wouldn’t necessarily say spring is my favorite season.  I enjoy all the seasons here in New England, perhaps summer most of all, but it’s not a definitive ranking.  Spring has always brought a special feeling though.  The sense of rebirth, the feeling of release from the bondage of winter, that’s what spring meant to me.  I’ve always greeted spring with joy and happiness.

This spring brings only ambivalence.

Many days I’m both saddened and angry that the world continues to turn.  I look at some of the things I know are coming up knowing they will pull forth memories.  The memories are good and welcome, yet the reason for them is nothing but pain.

There’s soccer of course, that’s already started.  While I enjoy being there, there is still a sense of melancholy, and I still don’t feel like I’m in a good place to pick up refereeing again.

With the weather warming this week I’ve been thinking about setting up the deck.  There’s a lot of sorrow associated with this.  Late last summer Kevin and I along with my friend Stephen built the deck.  I did much of the design, while Kev and Stephen did the bulk of the building.  The deck came out awesome, and Kevin in particular was very proud of his work.

The day of the accident was warm and sunny; we sat out back at least part of the day, with different people who came to offer comfort.  I made a number of phone calls that morning from the deck.  I cried for some indeterminate period of time out there after I went crazy for a while.

It is a place connected with both wonderful and painful memories.

I’ll never sit out there again without thinking of all that.

I enjoy sitting outside on a warm evening smoking a cigar.  Since he was eighteen Kevin always bought me a couple of nice ones for my birthday.  I wish I could share one more with him.

Some days I get a little angry that the world keeps turning.  How can everyone just get up and go to work, complain about all the stupid little things people complain about.  Don’t they know what happened?  Don’t they know how fine the razors edges of their lives are?

It’s best that they don’t.  Knowing how fragile everything is can push you to the limit of your sanity.  I’ve been living there for six months to the day, and it works out it’s Wednesday too.