How sweet Spring is!
Today was one of those beautiful, almost perfect, Spring days. With the Winter weather that barely reaches 30 degrees, almost 60 degree weather, was enough to bring out the happy in me. Winter was holding on a little too long, with days of no sun and bitter cold air. I can't wait for the beginning of Spring, with its sunshine promising warmer weather. The sound of the birds that have come back north, maybe just a little too early; and the flower buds piercing through the still cold, and thawing earth. The smell of Winter is being melted away, by the beginning of Spring.
Inhaling scents of the changing seasons, usually brings back some childhood memories. The first half of my life, the Spring time memories weren't so happy. My birthday is in April, but burying my little brother, the day before my seventh birthday, kind of put a little damper on that time of year. For years, the Spring season came around, I dreaded my birthday. It reminded, not only me, but my family of the loss we all felt at that time.
The smell of Spring, for me, would be flowers. Just not the kind of flowers that were blooming. It was the the scent of flowers that filled our home, the church and even the grave site on April 6, 1970. No matter where I was in my life, the Caribbean, college down south, or partying with my friends, nothing could take away the memory of that familiar scent, of the flowers from that day, at the beginning of that Spring.
Until a few years ago. I went outside one of those new Spring days and the 'memory scent' wasn't of those funeral flowers. It was grass and gritty sand. I realized I was remembering days at the park with my children. My son was probably about 11 or 12, my daughter two or three years old. The scent I inhaled was of Milham Park. The second we had sunny skies and warmer, dryer air, me and the kids and usually a couple of neighbor kids, would load up my station wagon, and head to Milham Park.
At the park, my son would go up the slide with my daughter and help her slide down. Until she felt she was a big girl and could handle the trip down the slide by herself. Then before we left, we'd go get bread for the ducks. I see in my memory, the picture of taking my daughter closer to the larger geese. One of them hissed at her and she climbed up her big brother so quick, you would've thought she was a gymnast.
Today when I stepped out my front door, I inhaled Spring and the past memories were not of my own childhood, but the childhood of my children. I held my face up to feel the sun on my skin and I thanked God, for the Spring day and my happy memories.