When the temperature reaches the 40’s, I celebrate the coming of spring. Those shoots in the front garden are the harbingers. Soon enough spring flowers will return color to the garden. I am so tired of browns and grays I can barely wait for the yellow of the dafs, the deep purple of the hyacinths and the earliest of all, the crocus.

When I was a kid, I had a spring jacket I loved. It was blue and it zippered. It had no lining, no added warmth. I’d beg my mother to let me wear it on a warmish winter’s day. She said no every time I asked, but she did let me remove one layer, the sweater under my winter coat. I conceded. When I was an adult, I bought a spring jacket. It was gray with a zipper and no lining. I wore it on the first warm day, but I admit I was chilly. As usual, my mother had been right.

Every day this month, we’ve gained 3 minutes of sun. The streetlights come on later. When I was a kid, that meant we could stay outside longer in the afternoons after school. That meant summer was getting closer. 

I found a small black book called My Sunday Missal behind some books on the shelves in my bedroom. The front cover is loose and faded. Only the letters sal can be seen. On the first page at the top, my name is written in green ink, in cursive. Below that is the phone number Sto6-3021. I don’t remember when that was our phone number. The book has prayers and a mass calendar through 1949. One of the neat pages has a drawing of the altar with every part labeled. One of the new ones for me was the exposition throne at the top of the altar. Mass prayers are in both English and Latin. I found the copyright 1940. I also found bookmarks, missal marks. One is cut from a larger piece of paper. It has just the face of Christ on the cross. He has blue eyes, the reddest of lips and a small beard on his chin, artistic license I figure. The next one is a picture of Mary on the front and a prayer, The Memorare, on the back. I don’t recognize it. The last one is a card with a Prayer of St. Ignatius on the front and an address on the back for the Society of Jesus with a phone number. The number is Ken 6-3611.

This book is a piece of my past I didn’t remember. It is well worn. I found a spot for it in the living room among my treasures. 

Today and tomorrow are going to be a bit warmer, today in the 40’s and tomorrow around 50°. It is a perfectly lovely day. The sun is bright bright, even squint your eyes bright. The deep blue sky is clear. The wind has disappeared. When I went to get the paper today, I saw the stirrings of spring. It was a huzzah moment. Tiny green shoots are above the ground.

When I was a kid, life was pretty much day to day. Planning for the future meant wondering what I’d do on Saturday. Relatives I seldom saw used to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I had no idea. I was young. I always thought that a silly question. My aunt the nun always asked me that question the once a year we had to go visit her. That was always her only interaction with us. I made up answers. That was the fun part. She never figured it out.

One time I was on a bus in the days when smoking was still allowed on buses. On the front seats, two on each side facing each other, were women who were together. They talked and talked. One of the woman took a cigarette out of a pack. She didn’t pay attention. She kept talking. I watched her put the cigarette into her mouth and light it. She had the wrong end in her mouth and lit the filter. She sputtered and coughed. I chuckled quietly.

When I was eleven or twelve, I had a white visor. I wore it all the time. I thought I looked cool. I probably didn’t. Back then I had categories for clothes. I wore school clothes, a uniform, every day. After school, I’d put on my play clothes, usually jeans, girl leans with the zipper in a side pocket, and a blouse. On Sundays I’d wear church clothes, a dress or a skirt. I was too young to care about style. 

I have only one category for clothes now, comfy, but I do have two dresses, my spring and my summer dress. They are old. They are flowery. I have few occasions requiring a dress so they are far back in my closet. The last time was Easter four or so years ago when I went out to eat. I also wore a fascinator, a round white one with a flower, a bit of whimsy to counter the dress.

I have come full circle. Happily I am too old to care about style.