Winter has lain heavy on me. Even on cozy days with snow falling, inviting me to read, I’d read a page and drift into sad, lonely thoughts. To do chores, I’d eat chocolate wrap myself in more weight—long underwear, shirt, sweatshirt, heavy socks, boots, vest and coat so that I can bear the cold, the damp. So many layers between me and the world. So much work to break out of sleep to take the puppy to potty in the dead of night, her energy during the day, too much, and I don’t feel good. That weight of winter seeped into my soul, so I shuffled through my days. I often napped.
But here in April, the sun is yawning and stretching his arms into days longer than nights. Daffodils, tulips, robins and red wing blackbirds sing. The puppy is six months old and sleeps through the night. Finally, she’s got us house trained, taking no longer than a commercial break to do her business. Omalola is joy incarnate, the joy of the Lord. I throw a frisbee, she returns with a smile in her ears. She shakes toys out of the bushel basket. She jumps over the other dog and onto the couch, exuberant. She crawls under the table. When she’s too much I tell her, “Settle.” Because even joy needs a little quiet. And my own heart lifts up. I feel light as those bubbles children fling into the air.
I’m Katie Andraski and that’s my perspective.
