The Dreaded April

The month nears a closing, thankfully, its pattern complete and its reputation intact. For several reasons, I dread April's arrival, and usually spend the month holding my breath to see what tragedy the year's sinkhole will contain.

I have lost many to April - my grandfather, my grandmother, my first husband and my second husband - all passed away within this terrible month. It's as if, having braved the austere winter months, folks heave a sigh of relief and let their guard down, only to be tripped up by spring.

Over the years, I have lost friends to April - two bosses, a secretary, several coworkers and an employee. I get the feeling that their loss is magnified by the proximity to the other markings of tragedy. I've lost friends in other months and, while I mourn their passage, the loss seems to remain in perspective with more grace.

This is not to say that losses suffered in other months are not equally as tragic - of course they are. But those lost to April seem magnified and persistent, ghosts which cannot rest or be let sleep. It's as if the ground has thawed and the portal between this point of life and the next is just a bit more open, just a bit more accessible, and folks are drawn just a bit nearer, gentled along by the budding of leaf and grass. "Renew!" the earth says. "Time for the next step!"

The dread April draws toward an end. Sensing the end of the collapsing tunnel, I take a tentative breath and pray I do not regret being so selfish as to wish not to lose another to its clutches.