April Movers Bring May Flowers

In late March, I wrote paragraphs and paragraphs about how I'd felt all month. I discussed my visceral reactions to the Trayvon Martin murder, the murders in Toulouse, my husband's morning in the hospital (he's fine), my first second-degree burn (I'm fine), and so on and so forth.  I even included the would-be comical tale of an absurd swelling in my throat that caused my doctor in her due-diligence to ask if I'd recently swallowed anything sharp (as in, had I failed to mention my sword swallowing for the upcoming carnival?). Her next best guess was an allergic reaction, so the post was titled "In like a lion, out like an allergic reaction".

Despite the "I can't wait for April" mantra I would chant whenever March was weighing down on me, I tried to remain as thankful as possible. In fact, each of my personal situations had the best outcome possible. My husband might have had appendicitis - but he didn't. I might have had some crazy hive inducing allergies- but I didn't. A 400 degree oven rack jutting out could have been really bad - so what's a teeny, little line on the fleshy part of the forearm?

If March induced an allergic reaction, April's approach is a sense of humor. As in my husband is going to drive to his new job in Maine the same my best friend in Princeton and her husband fly to Geneva for the year. Or that pretty much everyone is on spring break this week. Or that I spent $4.99 on On Demand to watch the Footloose remake - but really, what was I expecting?

There have been unseasonably few showers this month, and more moves and transitions than I would have chosen, but I'm just trying to take it as more opportunities to grab a latte and call some loved ones.