Transitions

 Spring has sprung and Cleveland Heights is vibrant, shimmering pink and white over a glow of spring green.  The old houses shine in all the new life and sunshine.  Everywhere, the world is springing up, shoots of hostas and bursts of tulips and lawns that pretend to be meadows, birds raucous in the trees. A symphony of hope and change.

(We have three tulips blooming in our tiny front garden this year and I am irrationally excited about it)

It's delicious, this springtime.  And so very fleeting.  Our daffodils have already begun to fade, and our forsythia is shifting from yellow to green.  Blink and you'll miss it.  I get a terrible case of "FOMO" every spring, and drive my family somewhat insane with my incessant need to go see ALL the tulips. I feel melancholy and strangely out of sorts as I watch the trees green up, worried that life is going too fast and I'm going to miss it all.  I love every minute of spring but it turns out I don't really know what to do with myself in this season. So I set my sights on the promise of summer to come, just the other side of these liminal, constantly changing weeks of growth...

We're transitioning in the pandemic, too.  Thanks to the nigh- miraculous work done by teams of scientists around the world, and the wealth of our nation, people are being vaccinated against Covid at a great rate. We are still holding our collective breath just a little, hoping vaccinations will outpace the virus variants that are moving from state to state.  But even with that tension, there is a pervasive glow to the world.  My FB feed is full of selfies of my beloved friends holding their vaccine cards and those photos are a symphony of hope and change, just as much as the flowering trees.  I have been "fully vaccinated" now for almost a month, which is a wonderful gift.  Yet, I don't really know what to do with myself in this changing, freer world. 

We've become so very accustomed to "pandemic life," it turns out.  We worked hard to adjust our expectations, normalize masking, step back from other people, turn inward towards our families, stay home, be insular... I am having a hard time shifting myself.    I've lost my skills at small talk, I'm still a little scared of eating out, and I have no idea how to handle a full schedule.  We've been waiting and waiting for life to "get back to normal" but here on the edge of it I am not sure I even know what that means.   Even as we hurtle towards it!  Kids are both back in full time in- person school as of this week (thank all that is holy!), and even though they've been in school all year, this is different.  They are exhausted and hungry when they get home, and have more work to get done and sports practices to keep up with and only those few afternoon and evening hours to meet allll the needs AND enjoy the spring weather-- it is intense!  And we haven't even added back things like choir, in person meetings, or social events in the community.  There's talk that fairs and festivals are going to be back on this summer, and I just don't know how I am going to fit it all in!  Keeping up with the house and the feeding of our people has been all we've had to / been able to manage for a year...Thinking about being "busy" again-- it kind of takes my breath away. And there's a strange (kind of inappropriate?) melancholy too.  Not that I would wish a pandemic on my worst enemy but there were some gifts this year, you know?   The gift of time to breathe, to simplify, to carve out more moments for one's self.  The gift of gratitude and clarity about what is most vital.  And now it feels like those gifts may be fading, as fast as the blooms on the weeping cherry trees, as we race towards greener horizons.   Transitions are hard, and I am a little out of sorts. 

Meanwhile.  It is spring in Cleveland Heights and we are not missing a moment! 

Never too cold for this dog to swim.  Lake Erie has been clear and calm for the past two weeks, and the water sure LOOKS swimmable...

Post-Easter egg hunt at University Circle. We gathered cousins and friends and threw a ball and hunted eggs and enjoyed ourselves for about an hour until in unexpectedly began to rain.  Sigh. Still a fun time.

And Nat had the opportunit to get this hilarious picture of me in full "organze the children" mode...

The trading of candy was definitely the high point of the event for most of our not-so-little ones.  But even these tall boys eagerly went out and hunted for those eggs.  So big and yet so little. 

Ivy and I had the opportunity to cat-sit for a friend this week. Which frequently comsisted of me going over on my own at 10pm because our evenings have been strangely busy and time eluded me til then.  Mac the cat was shy and sweet and our friend's apartment was a lovely place to spend some time in the evenings. 

Saw these lovely ladies for the first time in a YEAR at a happy hour this week.  We talked nonstop for an hour and an half and could have kept going.  I miss working with them, terribly.  And getting to hear about allll the gossip. Though with some of the stories they told me, I am NOT missing my old position very much.  I think I blocked out just how challenging that job was.  Phew! 

Summer is coming!  Dog beach meetup with friends-  we practiced our socializing and our beach sitting skills. 

FYI the water was quite a bit colder than it would appear in this photo! 

Here are our friends being tackled by a random, overly friendly puppy.  I love the dog beach.

A flowering tree hunt at the Lagoon and Lakeview. Due to covid craziness and the need for reservations, we've not been able to get in to the Gardens to see the blooms yet this spring, which is a weight on my soul.

A hike with church youth group.  It was fun to see our friends after over a year apart/ meeting on Zoom.  Jack and Ivy were characteristically anti-social, never fear.  But the adults all talked a mile a minute.   More, in fact, than I think I've ever talked to any of the people there.  So often in our old lives we just took our social contacts for granted, leaving our interactions at a quick, surface "hello" and moving on with our busy lives.  Now, eager for connection, we launched into actual conversation right away, really listening to and appreciating what we learned of each other.  That's a Covid gift I hope I can keep. 

Bike ride on the towpath with our friends.  Celebrating an 80 degree (!) Saturday and the fact that we have a new bike rack for the back of the van.  It was a lot of fun, and we had pizza and beer at our friend's house after which was all the better. 

Happy spring, and smooth transitioning, to each of you!