My father often dismissed the entire month of February as too cold, too messy, too bothersome a month (for someone who lives in Buffalo year-round, this is saying something). I've always been a bit amused by his feelings and never quite understood them. Why, February has Valentine's Day, the Super Bowl, Candlemas, Ground Hog Day (fun!) and, more recently, the Girl's birthday. What's not to love? Myself, I'd always pegged April as the cruelest month, teasing bits of spring in between hard frosts and frigid nights and then, of course, J. died in April (and K. and C., all within two weeks of each other), hardening me against the entire month forever.

As I get older, though, I'm coming around to my father's point of view. Looking back over my journals I can see that he may well have been onto something all this time. Most of the truly painful events that I've felt the need to record over the past several years have fallen in February. A baby born still, a job loss, illnesses both severe and mild, dissolution of a marriage, scary tests and scarier results - all in the shortest month of the year. That February brings ice storms in my part of the world suddenly seems very appropriate, our very own Narnian "always winter" in one neat, 28(9)-day package.

It seems right to me this year that Lent covers most of February. Reflecting in this time of repentance I know I have much correct and also much to forgive. Perhaps this year with the reminder of the peace that passeth all understanding I can put the darkness of an unkind month behind me and everyone who has shared my bleak days. Perhaps I will be able to keep the words of a traditional Anglican blessing that I have always found beautiful even closer to my heart. "Life is short, and we do not have much time to gladden the hearts of those who make this earthly pilgrimage with us. So, be swift to love. Make haste to do kindness. Shower abundant hospitality on friend and stranger. Walk in justice that you might follow the path of truth and love. And may the One who comes to us unbidden who for our lives was broken and who guides us into wholeness and holiness of life be among you and remain with you always."

Perhaps. I may even start liking April again.