greening grass

spring unveils itself slowly. one day at a time, the small victories of sun and warmth overcome the undoing of winter. maybe we don't notice them as it unfolds around us but one day we wake up and all of the sudden, life has reasserted itself, manifest in hues of unimaginable color and smells of amazing freshness and air that warms our souls.

i once again find myself in a holding pattern, waiting for monday's scan and tuesday's meeting with the doctor. to say i'm not nervous would be a lie but it is not posessing my every thought as in instances past. i have danced with cancer long enough now to know there is nothing i can do today to change what happens on tuesday and i shouldn't let my nerves or other morbid thoughts paralyze my actions today. so it is the little things, the day by day things, that i busy myself with trying to see.

amazingly, the crocuses have bloomed and are now finished holding their ground against march winds. the maple tree in the front yard is ripe with giant red buds; the forsythias laden with yellow ones; the willows with green ones - all waiting for a warm week before unfurling their first leaves of the year. the grass is growing greener with each hour of sunlight. the birds are already singing when the alarm goes off at 6:45 or 7:00. the peepers have been singing each night this week.

these small, seemingly unimportant changes are what i grasp onto these days. i feel i have so little control over so few things in my life. i daydream as i drive or walk; i see myself moving away. i see myself backpacking again. i see myself riding my bike on smooth pavement; i see myself doing so many things i cannot readily do right now. i nearly forget i am sick. i feel thethered to this place, this time, to my doctors, to the hospital, and it is all holding on tight to me thanks to the rope of cancer. when i think in bigger terms, in longer chunks of time, not daydreaming, but thinking, it is all too much. i fear it will all come crashing down - the way i've managed to manage the day-to-day. i am not sure what to plan for and i am not sure whether it is safe to dream or if i will just end up being let down by it all. you see, i imagine a perfect spring, green and fresh in sight and sound, segueing into summer as it always magically does. i just don't know how far i get to go.

the in-between is accented during these days leading up to the scans and meetings. the in-between is where my demons live, where i remember what is going on inside my otherwise healthy appearing body, and where i feel the paralysis creeping into so many aspects of my life.

i am lucky to have this life, and i am fortunate for all that comes with it. i never forget it but i often wish this isn't how things played out.

so, that's why i look at the little things, and note them. for the tougher days when it doesn't seem like something is happening. and when i expect it least, there's always another surprise. like a fox in a field. i hold onto the little things that maybe i used to look past.