T.S. Eliot described April as “the cruelest month.” I really get that. April keeps fooling us. Nice day, get out your shorts and flip flops and plant some flowers; next day, snow flurries and cold, biting wind. Just when we may have been sort of getting over memories of much sadder April cruelties like Columbine and Waco and Oklahoma City, now we have Boston and West, Texas, staring us in the face and making us cry when we had been planning to laugh and cheer and feel the sunshine.
An April state of mind will keep catching us off guard until we come to terms with the fact that what we have here is just one day at a time. No guarantees, only the gift of today.Even on days like last Monday, we have within ourselves the grace and the strength to cope, one day at a time. Coping with what is begins to seem like an art form when we observe how many helpers did what they could in small and large ways to bring comfort to so much human misery.
So, we sing along with “Sweet Caroline” and get through our own Aprils, remembering Hemingway’s words about life breaking us all, but giving us the chance to prevail by becoming stronger in the broken places.