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Waiting for Spring
My hands hurt from wielding the shovel, yet again. My shoulders ache. I gaze down my driveway, a driveway that feels like it magically added a hundred feet to its dimensions, and sigh. I can’t do this, I can’t make it.
This is the mountain our kiddos climb, day after day. The road ahead too long, their souls too weary to travel it.
The snow is still falling, coating the path I’ve cleared, icing over