It’s been cold and grey for days, with intermittent snow. I know this is normal for spring in the Adirondacks, but it is feeling dreary and heavy this year. I am struggling.
The endless work. Big disappointments. Grief. The endless work. I am ready for a break in the cold and clouds and discouragement.
In my mind’s eye, I can see my elderly friend Allen in his seat in the truck, nodding.
“Done whinin’?” he asks cheerfully, patting my hand.
Yes. One thing Allen, my father, and my husband all have in common: not one of them would ever whine. Onward.