For the next few weeks I will be taking a break. I need some time to reflect and decide a few things. Thank you for stopping by. Peace to you all.
 We entered spring this week. We have transitioned into transition. For those of us living in the North, spring sometimes eludes us. As a child, I always thought spring was the time of puddles and mud. Eventually, however, the trees would bud and the green lace would begin to hang from the boughs. I love spring. I love the transitional seasons. I like the journey rather than the destination. Perhaps that is because I believe we do not usually get to the destination we often seek, but rather the destination is just another stop along the journey of life.
Spring is such a hopeful season where we awake from the slumber of winter, turn our face to the sun, and look forward to new life. The buds on the trees always strike me in spring. Each bud contains all the information it needs to become a full grown leaf. I am always fascinated by the power of life we find in nature. All the information needed for a new life is often so small, so fragile, but it has all the information it needs to be who or what it can be. Cells divide, and divide, and divide and we have a new life, but all life comes from such a small and unassuming beginning. Now, once life begins, there is no telling what might happen. Perhaps, the new life will go no further than the bud. Maybe someone will come along and break off the branch and what had begun will come to an early end. Maybe, however, the branch will put out leaves and put one more year of growth on the tree. There is no way of telling from the bud what the end of the story will be. What I like about spring is the hope it gives us. Each year, we see the end of the slumber of winter and experience the waking up of spring. Many of us turn our thoughts to the cycle of life—this continual end of life and rebirth. Sometimes we go through a period of time in our lives where we need to take a step back, or even retreat. In that time, we can come to ourselves and see a new way or new path that we would like to take. When the springtime of change is upon us, let us take the step in the new direction. Let us push forward like the little buds and discover the new life we might be entering. This year may we put forth a new layer of growth and strengthen our journey. All the information we need to become who we are becoming resides already within us.  Today, the world says goodbye to one of our best known idea people, Dr. Stephen Hawking.His thought provoking ideas has served to challenge and enlighten. He will be missed, but his ideas and how he lived his life in the face of health obstacles will remain. I cannot hope to cover his life and achievements better than the myriad of articles being written today. I just want to say to him, thank you for your ideas and spirit.
 When I am not fighting the good fight for family’s rights in death, I drive a school bus. I love the bus and it allows me to have enough free time to commit to my death work while I raise my family and care for my mom. I have a full life. I love it. On the bus I love listening to my little ones as they begin to put together ideas they have learned in school. Sometimes what they say is so thought provoking because they see things from a fresh point-of-view. I also enjoy how the bus route becomes a community. Throughout the year and year to year, the route takes on an identity and hierarchy asserts itself, and I, as the driver, must be on the top of that hierarchy or chaos reigns on the bus. The community on the bus is never stagnant. Children graduate and move on, while new younger students arrive to fill their spots. I find this all very fascinating. I have a route which I have had for years. This year, I had fewer stops than in previous years which made my mornings and afternoons easier, but also let me know that larger changes were coming. The school year progressed as it always does, but by the end of January, I began to see some changes in behavior I had not seen in a long time. Then last week one student left the route. The following day, the other kids were more chatty than they had been in long time. They let me know that more than a few would be leaving the school at the end of the year. Then it hit me. The “band was breaking up” and these kids were going through a grieving process. Luckily for them, they have a driver who knows a thing or two about grief. I was then able to read the situation for what it was—grief. Once I was able to interpret their behavior, things settled done. Children feel things deeply, but might not always be able to express them in ways adults can understand. We need to be open to what they have to tell us when they are ready to reveal their feelings. I am not a counselor on the bus, I drive them and keep them safe as best I can, but I can and do lend an ear to their concerns and they know that I listen to them. Sometimes the kindest gift we can give- is to allow people the space and time to tell us what they need to when they are ready to tell us.
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Caroline Vuyadinov
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