Ok, March, let’s do this. You and I started a love/hate relationship two years ago, and despite your attempts to make me hate you, it isn’t going to happen. You see, you became my favorite spring month in 2003, when the blond haired blue eyed baby boy that I prayed for came barreling in two weeks early on the 8th. We rocked along looking forward to your return each year for 16 years. Then you changed the game by making the 19th the last day my October baby’s beautiful hazel eyes would shine.
You probably thought you would be an annual month of darkness for me, only pulling myself out on the 8th for cake, and returning until April. Thirty one days, less one, of remembering what was no longer - who was no longer. A page on the calendar that signified pain and mourning.
March, you have taken much, but you have given so much more. The days are longer, the sun is warmer, and nature is rejoicing that the long cold winter is over. I don’t dread you. I embrace you! The blonde eyed boy is turning 18 and is blazing boldly into his future! The hazel eyed boy now lives unbound by the constraints of time!
Oh, March, don’t you see? You signify new life! All around me. New. Life.
I’m not sure what your intentions were, sweet March, but I can assure you there is no darkness. Quite, the opposite. I now get to celebrate two birthdays, and celebrate I will. I will celebrate as the buds become blooms. I will celebrate as one baby becomes a man. And I will celebrate as I consider the unimaginable light, love, happiness and endless joy that the other baby now resides in.
Let’s do this.