A Sure (and welcome) Sign of Spring

A sure sign of spring appeared today.

No, it wasn't a robin or a crocus or daylight savings time. 

It wasn't the sound of a college baseball game being played over the radio or the sign advertising the Lenten Fish Frys at the neighborhood Catholic Church.

It wasn't the long lines at the car wash or the fact that it's spring break for the schools this week.

It is 8 bags and containers of grasses, vines and other material from the spring yard and garden clean-up, that will be placed out near the street and that will surely have the garbage men muttering under their breath on Wednesday morning.

Yes, the spring garden clean-up began this weekend and I for one, really needed it this year. It wasn't that our winter was harsher than usual. In fact, it was a relatively moderate winter considering what the folks in the northeast have endured. 

But the last couple of weeks have taken me on a roller coaster of emotions brought on by straddling the space between life and death once again. It culminated yesterday morning as I was on my way to my regular Saturday morning meeting when I drove by the Starbucks on 72nd and Dodge and thought of, or more accurately, looked for Al. Over the years, it was almost common to see Al in the drive-thru lane procuring a coveted cup of coffee.

About a month ago, my friend Al who had been battling lung cancer for about 9 months, left the hospital to spend the last of his days in his home.  I made the trip down to his home outside of Omaha 4 days before he passed to see him one last time. I spent about a half hour with him, mostly just listening as he was feeling the effects of the morphine and other medications. However, when my time came to leave, he looked up at me I as stood over him and said, "Well, what do you say when over 20 years of friendship is coming to an end?"  "I say thank you for the gift of your friendship, I love you, and I hope to see you again." And with that, I kissed him on his forehead as I held his hand, then turned and walked out of the room. 

4 days later the e-mail from Al's wife, Michaela,  came telling us that he had passed away peacefully earlier that evening. Later the next day when we spoke, she asked me if I would be willing to speak at Al's service. Of course I said I would.

Georgette and I were scheduled to fly to Florida the following morning to care for our 3 grandchildren while their parents went on a short cruise, but she went without me and I re-booked my ticket to leave early the  morning after Al's funeral. I spent part of the next 2 days preparing my words to honor Al, and on Friday afternoon, in front of a packed chapel full of family and friends, paid tribute to my friend, Al. It was hard, but deeply meaningful, especially when so many of his friends and family told me how much it meant to them.

The next morning I flew to Florida for 2 days where the weather was warm and the company was good. When I returned to Omaha, I was greeted with cold and snow. The following weekend, we went to Kansas City to  care for our 2 granddaughters while their Mom and Dad were at the hospital for the birth of their 3rd daughter, Lane. And when Lane came home several days later, I got to hold her for almost a half an hour before I headed north to get back to work while Georgette stayed for a couple of more days. 

The roller coaster of life and death was about over when I drove by the Starbucks yesterday morning and looked for Al, remembering how many times I would see him there, also on his way to the same place I was headed. And maybe for the first time since I left the funeral home that evening, I felt a small amount of acceptance that he was gone. Gone but not forgotten.

Saying goodbye to a friend and welcoming a grandchild to the world. Funerals and births. Coming and going. Plans that change. Life goes on.

So with the weather forecast for the next 10 days in the high 50's & 60's,  it was time to get to work. Garden and yard clean-up...my soul sure needed it.

I can't explain why, but working outside in the garden, in the sunlight, seemed to be just what I needed. A welcome and tangible sign of hope, of renewal, of the cycle of life. 

I'm not sure the garbage man will see it that way when they load the bags and containers on Wednesday morning, but then again, maybe they will. A sign of spring for them perhaps, but just not as welcome as the sign I saw.

 Welcome or not, the signs of spring are here.