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Jean's Blog (Check out links to Guest Blogs in lefthand Column)

The Terrible Month of May

The exuberance of early daffodils

The drabness of winter trees seemed to echo the drabness in my heart. And suddenly this week, almost overnight, the city  exploded into young green, lacy delicate leaves shivering in the chilly breezes, casting a hazy bloom over every street tree,  everywhere showing off apple blossom, quince, redbud and cherry blossom, punctuated by the bold gold of forsythia and daffodils, the massed red and yellow tulips in tiny flower beds of brilliant color, surprising the eye and the heart.

I am a lady in waiting. I have to effect a few small changes on the finished FOOTPRINTS ON THE HEART, as I await creative surprises from the jacket designer. The anticipation is making it hard to get through every day, but I hope that something will flower on my computer soon, and that I will love her ideas. I am tackling the ever-demanding and never-reducing piles of mail and documents that each require something of me, as they float in, day by day, a relentless tide of mess and obligation.

May will hurt. Alan's birthday was May 18th, and before that I must navigate Mother's Day. His was usually the first call, and he never forgot. He lives on vividly in my heart, that beautiful baby with a mass of dark hair, a gorgeous smile, and an irresistible chuckle, who became that big man with the kind and generous heart, the ever-present humor, and the wonderful enveloping hug.

May will also bring joy and laughter to us, as my nineteen-year-old granddaughter Anna from Seattle arrives from college with her beautiful youth and energy, to park herself with us for a month while she works at her daily summer internship in a midtown company. Dinner will blossom with tales of the day's experiences, discussions of what to wear if she is going out, and how she will get to and from everywhere safely. I can hardly wait. Anna is also the irresistible magnet for my other nineteen-year-old granddaughter, her cousin Sarah. The two of them will stir the air like music, and usher us back into youth for a brief stint of happiness.

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