The Final Part of the Year

During the final part of the year, I daydream about those late spring days when the temperature, humidity, dander, and wind speed finally align.

The abundance of colors

I call it “God’s Weather”. The bright sun calls me to leave my nest, to stretch like a newborn baby, to rise and to once again walk outside. I am urged to stay outdoors by the abundance of colors and the sweet scent of early bloomers. I witness every living thing being reborn. Here life is abundant and thriving. These days can be exhausting as I overdo and push myself more than I have in many months.

Trying frantically to stay warm

The cold days of a harsh winter kept me bundled and trying frantically to stay warm. With the blinds drawn and the windows covered life becomes dark and dreary. We have a need in winter for heavy meals, but I can not consume them, so I exist on soups and stews. Through this long cold winter, I worked hard to keep myself busy enough to stay warm.

Going out means boots and coats too heavy for me to carry. My face and neck covered in a scarf that cuts off all my ability to see let alone breathe. My oxygen tanks become cold and my cannulas get so cold that the 02 going into my lungs stuns them. Appointments are put off due to road conditions and ominous weather and visitors are elusive.

It means staying in the moment

Finally, the day has come. I can shed my heavy sweaters and opt for a mere t-shirt. I feel the warm breeze nipping at my shirt and I embrace it. The sun softly kisses my arms and turns them to a slight bronze. I never want this day to end, but rather I want to drink it in and to write it in my memory.

Good things happen on days like this. It was a day like this that my grandson was born, a day like this that I was released from the hospital, a day like this that I was married, and my children were born. This day brings life in many forms.

All days won’t be like this and soon it will be too hot and humid for me to walk out of doors. I won’t let that worry me now. Now, I must store every moment of this day in my brain. It means being mindful and observing everything that happens in this moment. It means staying in the moment. It means that no other time in existence matter now. Just now.

The right to visit old memories

I want to keep an accurate record of what I see and hear and the way it makes me feel. Although this day for me is months away and these cold and windy winter days that keep me indoors, I can dream. When I become ill, or anxiety hits me, when my chest gets tight and my cough grows worse, I can take myself back to this day. I will relive it many times over. The one thing that nobody can take away from me is the right to visit old memories.

Editor’s Note: We are extremely saddened to say that on January 7th, 2024, Barbara Moore passed away. Barbara’s advocacy efforts and writing continue to reach many. She will be deeply missed.