It seems too cool for February - even in northern Florida. I guess I keep expecting spring to be arriving with the robins who are passing through on their way north... brrrr! Do they know there's been a huge snowstorm up there? There have been two 'waves' of the red-breasted beauties about a week apart. They like my yard because I don't use chemicals and I have a sort of spring dribbling down one side of the driveway where they can get fresh water. I like seeing them because it reminds me of when I was little and watched for the first robin to arrive - the harbinger of spring in New England. (The picture is of a small lake near where I walk just as the sun was setting.)
Some people who will read this next part will know it is a family story... when I was little - about 7 or so - my father knew I was watching for the robins and he would yell out at breakfast, "I see it, I see it - but it's a white robin!" I would jump up from the table hoping to see it. By the time I got back to my seat, my bacon was gone. I don't know that he took it every time, but my brother certainly had been convicted of that particular crime more than once using other ruses.
Today I spent some time with a close friend who has just been diagnosed with early dementia. She is scared about losing her memories, about the stories of her life for her grandchildren. We talked about how we ARE our histories, our family events, descriptions of relatives, sharing the similarities of those who have passed with those who are growing up. Her granddaughter is old enough to write down some of the information and it could be a bonding time for the two of them, I suggested. It's too new to think that far ahead, I realized after I'd voiced it. We joked a little, tried to ease the horror of what lies ahead, but in the end we just hugged each other. I'm scared, too, for how this will change both our lives.