Do you want to play?
We left the dishes on the table in a rush to go into the fading light. I grabbed a rake and eagerly went after the dull and the dead, seeking green signs of life that I knew would be coming up by now. Two weeks into seclusion, more talk of sickness and death every hour. To see Spring coming right on time seems like a miracle; both a welcome relief and an annoyance. This isn’t normal. This isn’t good. This is not right- to miss out on life, to turn away from the ones we love. Exposing a new beginning is a reminder that life is going to go on, even when it isn't the same. And I just want it to be the same. Tonight, as I gardened, I heard the kids start a game of freeze tag. Hearing them laugh together made me smile. And then, “Mom, do you want to play with us?” my 15 year old son asked. I don’t need to go into too much detail except to say that I don’t think my son has asked me to play with him in a very long time. I believe those words were last spoken to me by a roun