BLOGAHOMA

Maybe in April, when it’s all over, the chemo drip, the following days of Michael feeling yuchy maybe then normal will return. We’ll eat spicy food again and go to the doctor once every three months instead of camping out in the Cancer Center. We’ll unplug the alarm clock and wake up when the sun slips in the window and won’t take a nap in the middle of the day, unless we want to. Maybe in April I can replace all my bookmarks on cancer to ones on joy and thriving. We’ll unleash ourselves from the 100 mile map and be able to feel free to move about the country, if just to plan a weekend getaway. And come April we might again be able to open our mail box without dreading the medical bills spilling out. Maybe in April we will be able to accept a hug without fear of catching something. Maybe in April I can follow capricious whims and dance with serendipitous glee.

I am safety pinning my hopes to April. April don’t let me down. I promise, I will keep trying to live in the moment.

April’s Charms by William Henry Davies

When April scatters charms of primrose gold
Among the copper leaves in thickets old,
And singing skylarks from the meadows rise,
To twinkle like black stars in sunny skies;

When I can hear the small woodpecker ring
Time on a tree for all the birds that sing;
And hear the pleasant cuckoo, loud and long –
The simple bird that thinks two notes a song;

When I can hear the woodland brook, that could
Not drown a babe, with all his threatening mood;
Upon these banks the violets make their home,
And let a few small strawberry vlossoms come:

When I go forth on such a pleasant day,
One breath outdoors takes all my cares away;
It goes like heavy smoke, when flames take hold
Of wood that’s green and fill a grate with gold.