I remember the spring of 1983. The spring my grandma died. The week before had been wonderful spring weather. On Easter Sunday I ran wild in my grandparent's 2 acre yard with my sisters and my cousins in the beautiful, warm weather. Flash forward a couple weeks later and I am standing at the upstairs window of my grandparent's house watching a swirling flurry of snow turn the pasture, including cows, white. I thought the weather was right, knew what was happening.
Today I thought of that as I watched it snow on what had previously been a sunny May Day. The snow was thick, coming down hard and white, like miniature hail stones. Then it stopped, and the sun came out again. For about 20 minutes. Then it snowed again. The weather was all mixed up. Couldn't decide. Had a nervous breakdown.
Someone must have died.
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