April Cruel

"April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of dead land,
Mixing memory and desire…”
T S Eliot, The Wasteland


I used to believe that T S Eliot worked in a tax office. I worked in a tax office and truly believed that “cruelest” did not accurately describe April.

This is the second tax season of freedom for me. I don’t miss it. Part of me can’t believe I lived through six or seven of them.

Even so, April has still been cruel.

The month began with a bit more revelation about myself and the nature of friendships than I would have preferred. The Curse of Greencastle lives on, but at least I didn’t freeze to death or worry about catching pneumonia this year. I have been to the dentist practically every Monday this month. Now as the month speeds to a close, I am confronted with my grandmother’s impending death from cancer.

Most of all, April has been a time when I have struggled with what to write, how true to be. I am supremely aware of the need to be sensitive of the rights and feelings of others Still, when situations arise that keep me from writing because of those same fears, there is a problem.

So, what will follow over the next several contributions will be intensely personal and necessary for me to keep writing.