This is my favorite time of the year. It only lasts for a few days and then it is gone for another full year. If you blinked, it would be over. My cousin, Jan, referred to it as the “Haze Days”, so named by her late husband, Harry.
Haze Days refers to the time when the new growth of leaves on the trees cast a green haze cast over the forest. Everything is blurred into a light shade of green, the colour of hope, rejuvenation and promise. It is accompanied by the continual chatter of the birds and the ever-present hum of the spring – peepers. The reeds in the pond shoot up new life up through the dead and dried bull-rushes of last year. Nature is waking up from its winter slumber. And so am I.
My chemo haze is lifting. I am filled with promise and hope. The last fews strands of hair have fallen, clearing the way for new growth. It won’t be long, hopefully, until there is that familiar white-haze on my head that makes me look rather like a fuzzy duckling. It won’t be long, hopefully, until my energy comes back and I can get back into my garden, read a book, or go for a long walk along the water’s edge. I will throw a baseball with David and watch a late-night movie with Ben. I will dance with Katya and play golf with Kevin. To think clearly again. Oh, what a treat. To be able to complete a task without falter. Oh, what a treat. To plan for the future and to be present in the moment. Oh – what joy!
Haze Days: days of hope.
Soon, the sun will clear the haze to make way for summer. How I look forward to this gift. The Canada Geese will lead their goslings, the roses will bud and bloom, and the summer heat will slow the pace to a pleasant meander.
Today is a gift that I must open slowly and savor every last second. It won’t last long. If I turn away in a moment of distraction, I will miss something. Something may grow, something may bloom, something may move. It is exciting to see life unfold before me. I want to see everything and to share it with my family and friends.
The world is waking up.
And so am I.