I’m not a winter person. I’m not even a fall or spring person. Summer is my jam, and if it were up to me, I would live in an area without wintry weather. However, I live in Michigan. The winters here are cold, gray, and filled with snow that never seems to melt. And we saw the sun only a whopping two days in January this year.
Michigan winters are heavy on my soul, and I’m counting the days until the season changes. I long for the sun to remain in the sky until 9 p.m., for afternoons spent at the neighborhood pool, for the days when we can leave the house without a twenty-minute ritual of donning hats, gloves, and boots. I long for the ease of flip-flops.
Just as I long for the seasons of the year to change, I long for other seasons in my life to change. When I was single, I longed to be married. After I was married, I longed to be a mother. Right now I’m in another season of longing for change.
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