They mowed the lawns of our apartment complex this weekend. Where just a few weeks ago there were wide never-ending expanses of wheat colored grass, painfully reminding me that winter was holding a monster grip on the Midwest this year; now there are lush green swaths of color, making my heart skip a beat, knowing that my joints are coming out of a season of pain. Joy at the thought of endless winter fatigue finally being cast out; Spring and summer days spent outside in nature.
Spring is a happy time for most people, but none so much as those in chronic pain; those that have spent months repeating to themselves that it's not forever, just for the season. The pain will end. It has to. And then a freak snowstorm in April makes you want to cry because clearly it is never going to end, this is groundhog day and it will go on forever.
But now there is a gorgeous emerald sea outside my porch and my heart swells with happiness that I now have several months of relative freedom ahead. Sure, the changes in the pressure systems, the storm fronts, the occasional pains with no explanation at all; those will always be there. But I can see a life not ruled by joint swelling and pain.
It's the most beautiful sight in the world.