There’s an
extra sharpness to today’s November air. I can feel it pierce my heavy lungs as
I can sense the presence of a coming snow. As I look out at the still green grass
littered with leaves and the trees standing coldly bare, part of me can’t help
but cling to the sweetness of summer while wishing for it to snow.
I don’t believe
I’ve ever wished for snow. But this coming snow seems different than those of
past years. Deep within me I know this year’s first snowfall will be a beautiful
cleansing snow that embraces everything it touches with a quiet radiance and a subtle
hope. A hope that gently covers November’s weary and uncertain landscape. A
hope that is rooted in the snowy promise that indeed, Spring will come again. I
have to believe it will come again.
As I lay listlessly
waiting for sleep to come, I can hear the storm’s wind whirling outside my
window. As sleep eluded me, I’d get up and look out the window to see if
I could see any first signs of the coming snow. I crawled back into my warm and
safe bed and just listened – hoping to awaken to a November kissed by the
brightest of snows. As sleep drew me in, my thoughts stirred on the Autumn winds
of November and the heartache this month always seems to hold. As I think back
over these past few years, my heart can’t help but bring me back to the
month of November and the defining moments of CF that so often seem to accompany
it. But as I think back, that heartache was always followed by the first snow –
a renewing promise that spring will
come.
Love to you
all.
Breathe in the beauty of the first snowfall.
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