Doldrums

February has probably always been my least favorite winter month - a colder, drearier July (my least favorite summer month). In January, I’m still basking in the glow of the holidays. In March, the onset of spring is evident. February’s only redeeming qualities are the Presidents Day holiday and new lambs. Thankfully, it’s a short month!

This February seems especially dreary. A year ago, Sami had her second craniotomy, and we finally learned that the “mass” on her brain was indeed glioblastoma. And six months ago, Sami passed. Last month, I got to see both of our daughters at the Society for Range Management conference in Reno. This month, I’m back to coming home each night to an empty house.

Dictionary.com defines doldrums as “a state of inactivity or stagnation” - pretty much how I feel at the moment. I feel old - widower is a term that feels old. I feel listless - I come home from work thinking I should work on cleaning the house or cook a hearty dinner. Some nights I do; mostly, I seem to collapse into my recliner after a simple meal. And wake up the next morning to do it all again.

But today, a seed catalog showed up in my mailbox. March - and springtime - is around the corner. And then April and garden-planting time. Not to mention baseball on the radio. And trout season. The sweet spot in the sheep year is approaching - after all the lambs are born but before I need to irrigate. Maybe next week, I’ll get caught up on dusting, mopping, and cleaning the bathrooms.

I’m grateful that there are only 12 more days this month. Grief and loss, at least for me, seems to intensify my emotions - especially my lows. February is always a low point - even more so this year.