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March in All it’s Marvellous Majesty
The month holds a whole mixture of emotions for me. (Includes monthly prompt)
The month of March, named for Mars the Roman God of War, apt for me because I experience a whole host of combative emotions. Five decades of my memories tumble in, haunting, beautiful, traumatising, painful, joyful.
Growing up, my grandmother and namesake, Sadie, was my world. Especially after my brother was born when I was four years old and I spent more and more time at my grandparents house. She was wise, kind, patient and gentle — and I loved her so very much. She passed when I was fourteen. I was broken when she died, and I’ve felt lost (to some degree) ever since. Unmoored. Untethered. Not anchored and needing grounded to this world.
Grandma Sadie’s birthday was in March. When I discovered I was pregnant, I was told that my baby’s due date was on exactly the same day. They would share a day. I thought that was wonderful, that little piece of news produced a little swelling of joy inside me among the turbulent roiling of shock and cold panic. But I’ll explain more about that in a moment.
In general, March is of course a month of burgeoning fertility, rebirth and regrowth. This is the time of year among still unpredictable weather fluctuations (sometimes warm sun, sometimes…
