Can You Hear Me Now?

April 2025 || The struggle and strain of spring.

This here is part where I’m supposed to let some toothy sentence sink its way into your soul so deeply than you cannot help but read on.

But friends, I’m all out.

I haven’t the gas, after this kind of month, to offer you much of what’s left.

I’m running on fumes.

The other day, a dear friend shared a story in which she ended an exhausting night, one she’d been preparing heavily for, feeling battle-weary. It hadn’t been a loss, though. In fact, in many ways, it had been an answer to prayer and confirmation of the rightness of her path.

That picture resonated with me, knowing the feeling is not being defeated so much as deflated. Even in victory, we are ourselves worn, perhaps wounded, and in need of restoration.

And that’s where I’m at, today.

Yes, there has — as always — been much to celebrate:

• Our middle marked his 11th birthday with an old-school, field day party on a gorgeous spring day with this classmates.

• We enjoyed a beautiful weekend marking one of our highest holy days with lots of time together.

• The oldest’s acted in her first performance ever, playing Puck in her middle school theater class’ adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

• Ripe, red strawberries, delicate white pea blossoms, and volunteer sunflower seedlings arrived in the garden.

• We received the news of new life, prayed and hoped for, for some our dearest loved ones.

• I walked 100 days (plus 20 more), despite many days of feeling like doing the opposite.

I’ve also stood in the shower, soaked more by my own tears than water and shattered by the heartbreaking cruelty of all I cannot control: absence, betrayal, and loss, among them.

It all feels connected.

It appears no accident that the greatest strain on my physical body has been my voice: the tool that is my most important, both aloud and written, as both a mother and a writer. Some weeks it’s been entirely gone, and others, it’s been cracked and gravelly under the strain of laryngitis and coughing, thanks to unrelenting seasonal allergies (for the whole family, to boot) unlike any I’ve experienced before.

While I’ve been unable or struggling to use my voice when necessary, I’ve also used it surprisingly where I might not have before.

Maybe I haven’t asked the direct and clear thing that scares me, but I have spoken up for our children when it’s been challenging. Maybe I abandoned a writing sprint meant to make leaps and bounds in drafting With You Everywhere, but I wrote a poem every day, many of which held deep healing… like this Day 26 poem in response to this prompt:

The old adage that April showers bring May flowers would be welcome for the days ahead. Thankfully, our own sleepless nights due to severe weather were few to start the month, and these end of April days have been warm (almost too much!) and brimming with sunshine.

I’m letting it all in.

And slowly, slowly, my voice has come back to me, having to cough or clear my throat only occasionally in conversation rather than being stunted all the way through.

I can finally be heard without hurting myself, and it’s about time.

• I didn’t know that I needed David Tennant opening this year’s BAFTAs with 500 Miles, but I did. And maybe you do, too!

• Which reminds me… have you ever watched David Tennant watching the Special Recognition portion of the National Television Awards 10 years ago?If not, enjoy.

• One night in March while talking with a new friend about our favorite composers, Jacob Collier’s name came up. Turns out I’ve been living under a rock, everyone’s heard of him, and I’m late to the party. The way he creates choirs from crowds is breathtaking, as was this enchanting performance of “Wild Mountain Thyme” at the Kennedy Center.

• I’ve put If it Bleeds, a novella collection by Stephen King, on hold at the library because of the trailer for The Life of Chuck. The film, which is an adaptation of the same-named story, doesn’t come out until June, but I’m already hooked. While not an avid King reader, I have deep respect for his craft and can’t wait to read it!

• This carrot cake (and this cream cheese glaze) have been the absolute MVP of our Easter celebrations for several years straight, enough that I’m now two-for-two on sharing it with y’all since I started this pub. I almost only ever eat carrot cake at Easter, but if you’re a carrot cake all year long kind of person, it’s the best.

• I really enjoyed this piece by Patty Smith on Super Nuclear about how a small gesture ended up creating a big sense of community, something you’d think would happen even easier in a suburban setting like ours. But like

  Katherine Johnson Martinko
  alluded to in her piece on privatization in the home, we’ve just gotten… comfortable. Looks like it’s time to have more coffee on the porch or in the alley!

It’s hard to believe we’re in the final weeks of the kids’ BIG NEW school year, and these days are thick with calendar events and to-dos, all the preparation required to wind down and transition into summer break. I find it tempting to move from the mixed bag of burdens and blessings of April into the busy speed of May, but I won’t.

The strain on my voice gave me the gift of quiet.

(A gift I’d likely have missed out on, otherwise.)

So what about you? What unexpected gifts (or challenges) did April bring your way, this year? As always, I’d love to hear from you!

Until next time,