Last weekend I flew to Nashville to celebrate my dad’s work and life. I’d forgotten about spring in Nashville: it’s green, warm, and fragrant. High contrast to the gray, muddy season up in Wisconsin. It was strange to be in Nashville so soon after the Covenant school shooting. Once again people are asking if things will be different this time. If we’ll make changes so this can’t happen…as easily…again. The TN legislature– a body not known for its progressive views– seems unlikely to lead the charge in common sense gun laws. And yet, and yet. And yet spring is the hope of things emerging where the ground seemed barren. I remain somewhat optimistic. Seeing the plants in Nashville felt like seeing old friends unexpectedly. I miss the long growing season of Tennessee.
I was grateful to see my family and to enjoy their company. More and more that seems precious and truly privileged. Despite heading into a memorial event, I was surprised to cry so much. It was as if my dad’s death was fresh. Or I’d forgotten and was reminded. It’s a gift to remember someone fondly, I think.