April is the Cruellest Month

Contrary to the natural thematic flow of seasons, Spring and Summer has been an unexpected time of loss and grief for a majority of people I know - and, indirectly, myself. T. S. Eliot began his poem "The Wasteland" with these words:

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering	5
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,	10
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.

Why was birth and life so painful for him? Life will inevitably result in yet another death, leaving humankind with nothing but a shadow of substance. It is better to forget - to live in endless winter, than to suffer yet another loss.

This topic is never too fun to read about. I'd rather read stories about fuzzy chipmunks that frolic in beds of daisies, but not only does my masculinity repulse itself from such an image, my mind reminds me that those sorts of images are just that: imaginary. But herein lies the strange irony (at least to me). The mere fact that we can create images, that we can imagine, suggests that perhaps we were meant for more than this. Who said imagination has to be imaginary?

So here is my imaginary process for the day: I imagine a day when Chicago will no longer be an armpit of bitter cold and wind. In that day, it will no longer snow in April and the sun will actually come out in summer time. Books will be made of chocolate and its material will physically assume itself into a students mind upon consumption. What a rad world - I hope you agree.

For those that have suffered loss, whether you are a digital stranger or someone I have actually met: perhaps the greatest consolation is an image and expectation of hope - not just in matters of life in death, but things will be as they were 'suppose to be.' April will yet again be April, and our memories and desires will leave us awestruck, causing us to wonder what we would ever do without them.