It's not a gradual change; rather, one weekend the tree limbs are bare and your grass looks like it will never be revived and then out of nowhere, you're surrounded by fluorescent green leaves that have taken over the once-naked branches and the grass doesn't seem so dismal. I mean, last week I was scraping frost off my windshield and all of the sudden, birds are chirping and weeds are taking over the yard. Every year I'm taken by surprise like it's something new.
This onslaught of spring is indicative of my life in a profound way:
We know where we're going.
We have an idea of when.
And it's extremely soon.
We knew it would come about like this, but now that the time has come, I can barely wrap my mind around the enormous task of ending our era here and relocating to an entirely different culture. At this point, it's not the new-city part that's daunting; it's the details within the grand move itself. One thought about a task that needs to be accomplished leads into the next thought, which then, like an avalanche, brusquely plows through my brain and causes uncalled for lashing out at poor husbands.
Today, conversations friends over ham and cheese sandwiches on the porch offered a sweet reminder to simply sit back and relax. Fight for each day; all will be taken care of in due time. And in a sense, I find myself at times enjoying the stress-somewhat, that fear and excitement of holycrapwhatdecisionsamisupposedtomakeforthislifejourney kind of feeling that we experienced every year in college, but start missing when we get into the rut of working life.
So, Frankfurt here we come. We're thrilled to call you our temporary 'home' and hope everyone will come visit. Often.
This picture has absolutely no correlation to what Frankfurt is like. But isn't it the first image that comes to mind?
