February

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDgOc3gMtFk

So, this song gets me every time–I may even have blogged about it before.

Two years ago Mate’s mom passed away and we lived in February until May, when Mate realized he’d forgotten to give me a Christmas present. He made it up to me–and of course I understood. He was broken and sad inside, but this song has always had the power to chill me, because it speaks of two people who love each other and of the way the world has of freezing that love in motion.

I’m getting over the crud–thank heavens–but Mate has it now and he may have to get on an airplane soon because his father is dying, and we’re not sure how we’re going to buy the ticket.

This year we are worried, finances are what they are, my job which I’ve loved–partly because I’ve loved the people I’ve written for (everyone reading this, you’re probably on that list)–is fractured and and frightening. The jungle of misinformation, speculation, and outright lies is thick and difficult to navigate, and I’ve gotten very specific about who I talk to about what’s really in my heart. Too many snakes ready to poison, too many beasties, ready to bite.

I look every day for compassion and humor in the world–and most often I’m rewarded. I cling to every interaction hoping it will give me warmth so my heart doesn’t freeze over. February is coming. My Mate is sick and he’s sad, and his heart is about to break and I can do nothing for him. Material things which can offer a cushion and a distraction aren’t going to be available for a while, and the places  I’ve gone to so I can charge my batteries and keep his heart warm are red and jagged and ready to slice open my nerve or my artery at a wrong word.

So I listen to this song and remember–February will end. For those of you who wonder where I get my ideas, there are a few lines about a crocus at the end of this song that gave me the idea for my book, Crocus.  They’re about how you can’t forget that signs of spring, signs of rebirth, signs of hope are out there in the world. You can’t forget that love which may have frozen can come back to life.

 I may finish a book tonight–and you know what?

No matter how cold February is, no matter how anxious and frightened I am about finances and what is to come, finishing a book is still something I’m proud of. I know–you look at my roster and you think, “Uhm, old hat much?”

No.

So there you go. Crocuses in February.

Like the end of the book, I know it may happen.

That love which may have frozen can come back to life.