For as long as I can remember, March has always been a really uncomfortable month. Whether here in the PNW or back in the Northeast, March is incredibly strange. It’s wet, cold, windy, sunny, glorious, and in swift rotation.
But March and early April has been strange for over 20 years for other reasons too. My grandfather died in March. My nephew died in March. And so did a baby I cared for. And my aunt. Then in April, my grandmother. And Michelle. Strangely, in these same 4 or 5 weeks, over the course two decades, many people I cared about left.
While things are literally springing from the ground, we are getting glimmers of warmer days to come, people are juicing or cleansing, and there is movement all around us. It feels like a time to get excited, to feel like the dark cloud of Winter (especially our PNW winters) is sliding away.
For me, it’s a time to slow it down and remember. To remember the letters I painstakingly wrote to my grandmother in Tamil. To remember the randomness of being there the day my nephew was born. To remember my dear friend’s undying love for Easter and mostly her love of candy.
This intense period of remembrance is actually kind of joyous. It’s sort of a ‘time shrine’ to those who I have been lucky enough to cross paths with, learn from, and be loved by.