The cicadas have been here for weeks. They swarm the entranceway to our house, the ground, the trees, the columns covered in them. Whenever I remember this time, I will remember the cicadas.
Every day I sweep them off the porch and the columns. I put away the broom and by the time I look back out, some have already come back, regrouping where I just cleared off. It seems the billions of cicadas in the northeast have decided our house is their mecca, flocking here en masse.
I have to believe their arrival is not plague, but promise. I’ve learned that many cultures hold cicadas as a symbol of resurrection and rebirth. We’ll take that.
Dennis continues to work hard at rehabilitation therapy. He gets stronger each day. Yesterday he wasn’t feeling great and was given the option to skip therapy. As you can imagine, the answer was “no way” and he powered through even though it was clear that it was the toughest session yet.
He is working hard and is motivated by the love and support of you all.