March(ing) Fo(u)rth

"In mathematics you don't understand things. You just get used to them." -- Johann von Neumann March 1-18 is one of my favorite times of year. The anti-climactic, oftentimes dreary month of January is over and February has breezed in and out quickly leaving chocolate hearts and celebrations of late presidents' birthdays in its wake. March is a fun word to say - it's concise, one syllable and can be a verb, noun or even an order. March 1st tells me and my fellow sun-deprived Oregonians that spring really is coming and the rainy winter months are almost over. March 4th may be the only date that you could use in a game of charades, hence the bad pun in this blog's title, but March 15 is perhaps the best, as any English major will remind you to "Beware the Ides of March." I think that's from Shakespeare's Hamlet, but I never remember. I'm almost ashamed to put that in writing, as I can just picture the horror on my high school (and college) English teacher's face that I did not retain that fact. Finally, who doesn't love St. Patrick's Day? Sure, maybe it's just one of those commercial holidays designed to encourage consumers to buy "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" t-shirts, shamrock stickers and green beer, but it's still fun. I thought about these dates that I look forward to every year today when I was out for a walk in my neighborhood. I thought about how I may never look at March 1st the same again, since it was the day my mother-in-law passed away. I thought about how it almost makes me smile that it was March when she left us. I can almost imagine her determined spirit telling her body to not javascript:void(0);go in February, but to wait just one more day and she'd have made it to March. I picture her saying that with a little bit of pride in her voice, since at Thanksgiving she told all of us she planned on being around for "a good long time." I thought about how perhaps December, January and February are only three months to me, but perhaps they were "a good long time" to her. Maybe when you get sick and your doctors and your body are fighting 24/7 to keep your body living, maybe three months is just the right amount of time. The right amount of time to watch the Ducks in whatever Bowl they played in over New Year's. (She'd laugh at that statement and that I could never get my football facts straight). The right amount of time to decorate the Christmas tree and wrap presents one last time. The right amount of time for her to surrender her body and say goodbye to her family and friends and to reassure us with love one more time that it was all going to be okay. Three months was not "a good long time" to me and I will always wish that it was longer. It will be one of those things that I don't understand, but I will try to get used to it. In the meantime, I will remind those around me of my nerd status and talk about Shakespearean betrayal on March 15th and warn them of those ides. I will eat some green vegetables, drink a Guinness beer, and wear a Kiss Me, I'm Irish" t-shirt on March 17th. I'll continue my countdown to Daylight Savings Time and I'll look forward to seeing the first daffodils and tulips of the season appear. And most importantly, I will march on.