New sun art

Spring's a' Comin'!

New sun wall hanging (mixed media on salvaged hubcap)

Spring's a' comin'

   When my husband lost his cancer battle in 2000, our sons were 1, 2 and 5 years old. We didn't have any other family nearby. After that, the boys and I got to know a family from our parish, the Hinkels. Troy and Laura Hinkel had five kids of their own, and they would often take my boys along with their kids to the park after church. So I could have some time alone and be my generally cranky self. And probably so my boys could have a break from me.

   My youngest son was famous for a couple of things during this time. Freeman loved hotdogs. He was also prone to vomiting after a particularly spirited twirl on the swingset. I forgot to share these tidbits of information with the Hinkels. They headed to the park with my kids one day after mass. And after lunch.  (Hotdogs).  The last stop at the park before getting back into the van to come home? The tire swing.
   When Laura dropped my sons back off at our house that afternoon, she had a funny look on her face as she pulled up in our driveway. When my oldest son Frank exited their vehicle, Laura offered, “he might want to change . . .”
   All the kids in the van chimed in that Freeman had thrown up on Franklin in the back seat. Laura smiled and said, “Well, the first indication that there was a problem was the smell. And my second clue was when I heard Frank say,

     "Freeman! You really should chew your food better!  
      You’re going to choke someday!
    Look at the size of this piece of hotdog!!”


     Frank’s concerned older brother response that day was, as usual, way beyond his years. How can I adequately explain a kid like that to you? He often filled in with his brothers for me when I was too out of it from anger, grief and exhaustion. Frank is a funny and wise old soul. After his dad died, he’d say to me solemnly, “Mom? I love you…And after I die, my bones will love you.”
     Navigating the holidays after being widowed was a tremendous effort for me. Often, I’d start getting a migraine a day or two beforehand in anticipation. We spent one such holiday at the Hinkels. I sat in the corner with a headache and was a very difficult person to be around.
     Troy and Laura were amazingly patient with me. Laura smilingly told me a story about growing up with her dad. They lived in Colorado and her father worked on the railroad for decades. He had to get up in the wee hours of the morning to go to work—particularly difficult in the dead of winter. But she said that his take on that was that at least spring was always around the corner.

     “Spring’s a comin’ ”  he’d say.

     That’s the good thing about spring, don’t you think? It always returns.