Spring

Last week I learned that Lois Earnshaw unexpectedly died on April 19. She stumbled and struck her head, but didn't seem seriously hurt. However, she gradually lost consciousness, was taken to the hospital, and died. She was 89 years old, but in good health, so it is quite a shock.

I first met Lois when we moved to New Hampshire; I was 28 years old. She had children about our age. She was talented and articulate and self-confident. A role model.

What is life for? To help each other through, for sure. To find worthwhile things to do. And we’re meant to enjoy our life, to appreciate the people and the beauty around us.

Four days ago, as I was driving into Lexington Center, I saw a hedge of brilliant purple azalea and then a tree with cascading white blossoms. A few days later, I passed under a row of flowering trees and remembered walking among the pink clouds of cherry blossoms in Washington the first spring that David was sick and in the hospital. It's a magical memory from a dark time. Since Patriots' Day, all around us, tree branches are tinged with many shades of delicate green. The trees haven't leafed out, but the promise is there. We don’t have the profusion of blooms southern cities like Washington, D.C. have, but the contrast between the winter bareness and the flowering shrubs and budding trees delights the heart.