They say if March comes in like a lion, it will go out like a lamb.
Right!
I celebrated March 1, my husband’s birthday, and my oldest daughter’s 25th wedding anniversary, in Palm Springs, California so, for me, at least, March came in like a sweet, baby lamb.
I’m not sure how it came in here, in Alberta.
However, when we flew into the Calgary airport on March 2, there was no evidence that a lamb had been anywhere around recently.
It was cold. It was foggy. It was icy.
And we knew one thing for sure.
We were home.
With winter on its way out and the time change coming up, it seems the baseline for personal happiness for each of us who live in this vast expanse of ice and snow has moved up a notch.
But, oh my gosh, it’s far too easy to let that baseline slide back down in a hurry. All we have to do is take a look at the gas prices and read about the situation in Ukraine. In keeping with all the unrest and economic woes, I just read headlines that said, “experts warn the pandemic is far from over.”
What!
I just threw out a whole bunch of masks I had hanging on a hook in the kitchen. I’ve started hugging people, unabashedly. I used up all my hand sanitizer and haven’t bought any more.
And now they are telling me this. It is grim out there, for sure.
Oh, and I forgot to throw in the price of groceries. Oh, my goodness. Even if you could afford to drive to the grocery store, you would have to shop and that would, most certainly, deplete any remaining cash.
In my own feeble attempt at frugality, I even made a loaf of bread the other day.
It was quite delicious if I do say so myself, reminding me of scrubbed kitchen floors and fresh laundry on the line and me, when I was a young mom happily engrossed in my domestic duties.
With all that is going on out there that is totally beyond my control, I have adopted a simple mantra of “one day at a time.”
One day at a time I will deal with whatever comes my way.
And then, at the end of the day, when it’s all over I can, finally, crawl into my nice, warm bed and close my eyes and let sleep take me away to a place where winter and all the woes and worries that go with it have melted away.
My family and myself are fortunate. We do not go hungry (well, I do get quite hungry after supper, mostly for cheezies and licorice, but that is not true hunger, apparently). We live in warm, comfortable houses and most of us are gainfully employed. There are, of course, the children and the retirees, neither of whom are gainfully employed, which is a good thing.
Sadly, not all of us are healthy and included in the deck of cards we have been dealt, is the wild card of chronic illness. But, to counteract that illness, I honestly believe we are so fortunate to have the medical system we have access to.
And so, at the end of the day, we still manage to laugh. And to cheer on our favourite hockey players who range in age from seven to 13. And our ballplayers. And our university students whom we are depending on to make this world a better place.
And to love and encourage each other. Always. One step at a time.
In fact, one day at a time.
Treena Mielke is a Central Alberta writer. She lives in Sylvan Lake with her family.