February is a difficult month for me. All throughout the year there is an echo of an ache that lingers in my heart. But in February, that ache presses to the surface, and sometimes I just can’t shake the sadness.
Today, I think, is one of those days.
Today, I will listen to the song I’m posting below several times.
Today, I will remember standing around the big tree in my front yard at my house in Manhattan, staring incredulously at the snowdrops that somehow managed to push through the cold dirt and wondering at that symbol of hope that seemed so out of place in my heart’s own frigid landscape.
Today, I will wonder if those snowdrops are blooming.
“You stopped and pointed, and you said, ‘That’s a crocus,’ and I said, ‘What’s a crocus?’ and you said, ‘It’s a flower.’ I tried to remember, but I said, ‘What’s a flower?’ You said, ‘I still love you.’” ~Dar Williams, “February”
My friend. I’m so sorry for February. I love you. Grace, friend. Grace.
Jill, I don’t know what your February held those years ago in Manhattan. But I resonate with your cry, and often long for my own crocuses poking through the soil…Are there really bulbs there that I have forgotten? I hope Spring comes soon for you, too, friend.
I wish there was way to instantly transport your family back here for Saturday night each week… we miss you.
Thank you, Lindsey, and Jenny. Thank you so much.
You are super loved.