When my husband and I were married (some time ago) we ended up with a couple of cases of champagne left. For the next 6 months or so we had Champagne Thursdays, we would hang at my mom's with my mom and step-dad, pop a bottle of champagne and drink it. It was a great tradition, one that led to much laughter and is still fondly remembered by all.
I know alot of people do grateful Mondays or that sort of thing, well, this is my version. Every Thursday I will (virtually) lift my glass to ONE thing. It can be very hard for me to pick one thing of anything, but I will do my best.
This Thursday I lift my glass to April. I love April. I know, I know, the cruelest month. poor misunderstood Eliot. But why is April cruel? In there lies my love of April.
|APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding|
|Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing|
|Memory and desire, stirring|
|Dull roots with spring rain.|
|Winter kept us warm, covering||5|
|Earth in forgetful snow, feeding|
|A little life with dried tubers|
In case you didn't get it, this is all about rebirth.
In April, Christians have their Easter, Pagans have their Easter, too, sans Jesus. Earth has her Easter, with a madcap display of blooming and growth and sunny days and sudden storms. Everything that has died is born again,
|You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;||35|
|'They called me the hyacinth girl.'|
|—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,|
|Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not|
|Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither|
|Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,||40|
|Looking into the heart of light, the silence.|
It is true that every year I read The Wasteland , every April I torture my poor DH and kids by reading sections outloud, but this Spring I am especially grateful for April. I am especially aware of my rebirth.
The strength and beauty of women's bodies are so amazing, knowing this time last year I was growing two little healthy people in me, causing my own body such considerable distress and now I can run and play with all my children, I can garden and clean and sleep and see my toes, and they do not look like sausages. The fear I held to is gone, replaced with the relentless tiger love that I have for all my children, not just my littlest two.
April, thank you for reminding me of the rebirth of my body and my heart and my soul.