April in Massachusetts is a time when life re-emerges, picks up pace, moves forward. The snow has melted. Flowers bud. The trees whose bare branches were coated with snow only weeks earlier are turning lush green again. For baseball fans, our long winter of despair comes to an end, as America’s game emerges from hibernation. In a way, America herself began to bud in April in Massachusetts; the Battle of Lexington was fought and won in April.
It’s bittersweet that I have to hope this is my last April in Massachusetts. If all goes well, I’ll be selling my parents’ house and moving back to Virginia soon. Of course I’ll visit; I could never leave for good. But for the first time in my life, I won’t have any kind of home base here; I won’t have roots in the ground on Opening Day or Patriots Day. I won’t see the daffodils bloom in the back woods again.
But that’s okay. We have flowers in Virginia. And history. And life moves forward.