Life is what happens

"Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans." -- John Lennon

We passed some kind of threshold this week.  The maples along Henderson Street burst into flower, and glowed in early evening light as I walked to my meeting on Thursday; the tulips defied the pessimists and bloomed just in time for Tulip Festival; killdeer called in the fields and barn swallows dipped overhead, as Thomas and I planted trees along Black Rapids Creek yesterday morning.  Now that spring has firmly gripped Ottawa, I find myself looking ahead to summer.

But not too soon, I hope.

I worked from home most of this week, staying with Sue while she recovered enough mobility to care for herself.  She had mostly kept to bed the days following her accident, fighting both the pain of her broken ribs and terrible nauseau from the pain medication.  About mid-week, however, she felt ready to give up the stronger drugs.  She spent time sitting on the front porch in the sunshine, with the front door open.  The spring air swept in and through the house, carrying even upstairs to where I worked in my home office.  The fresh air reinforced my impression of this house:  I like it; it feels spacious, light and joyful.

No... I didn't get the vacation for which I'd hoped.  But the spring air blew through the house regardless.  The neighborhood has grown more quiet, with the university students now off for the summer.  The apple tree in the back yard will soon blossom, as will the lilacs along Henderson.  The Co-op children play in the back.  And I spent some intimate moments with Sue, caring for her and bringing her some comfort.  It wasn't what I'd planned, but it worked out anyway.