Prayer: in my personal opinion, prayer is universal and is for everyone. Whether it is prayer in times of desperation or fear, prayer in gratitude, prayer in mourning, prayer in joy, it is something we all have in common, no matter who or what you pray to. And the power of prayer is real. Trust me, I’ve seen it in my personal life and certainly seen it in my professional life as a nurse.

It’s officially a week away from my all-time favorite holiday- Easter. Sometimes people question me as to why it is my favorite, and it’s an easy response. Little signs of life are coming back everywhere after the dreary and doldrum filled winter. Warm sunshine is finally peeking through the spotty clouds as days finally start ending after six o’clock. Sure, allergies may be more abundant and sneezing more prevalent, but how gorgeous are the tulips and the dogwoods in bloom? I love everything about Easter- the old hymns at church, the fragrant lilies, the egg hunts, and the delicious brunch or lunch spread filled with deviled eggs and traditional favorites on a beautifully set table with fine china and crystal glasses.

Spring in the South means many things: blooming dogwoods, azaleas in lush pinks and whites, seasonal allergies, weather ranging from a frigid frost to a sunny eighty-five degrees, afternoon storms with the slight chance of a pop-up tornado, and of course… youth baseball. Is there anything more American than a spring baseball game between eager kids scrambling to catch a grounder or a pop fly while nervous parents hold their breath? With the longer days comes harder-to-clean grass stains, the lingering smell of stale popcorn from a cinder block concession stand, a frantic, last minute search for new cleats, and my continuous love/ hate relationship with America’s favorite pastime.

I was recently at my beloved hair dresser’s getting my routine highlights and self- care maintenance when a casual story came up regarding candlelights and college engagements when I was in school. Eric about fell out in disbelief as I told this story of a very southern engagement tradition. And he truly about fell out when I told him that twenty years later, this tradition still stands.

Everyone who is anyone knows that Southerners have a specific way of talking. It’s slow as molasses and so drawn out, you may catch a cat nap before a sentence is complete. Some may find it annoying or strange, but most people I know can find a comfort in the relaxed way we annunciate our words.

Anytime a Southerner speaks about eating a salad, it doesn’t necessarily mean a bowl of leafy lettuce topped with a mix of vegetables and a light vinaigrette that looks like rabbit food. You see, any good Southerner knows that a salad come in a wide variety of options. There is the classic chicken, ham, and egg (sometimes with olive) salad that all can substitute as a lovely filler between two slices of wonder bread. There’s the heavy, carb-based salads like macaroni, potato, and even cornbread salad that always seems best with a touch of bacon mixed in. And there’s the ever-evolving fruit based, gelatin salads that just so happen to make my sister-in-law gag at the thought of them.

Growing up in the South, Mardi Gras has always been a holiday to celebrate. Whether you got a full week off of school as the Louisianans do or you simply got to bring a King Cake to class on Fat Tuesday, it was a day (or week or month) to remember. I can remember when I was in second grade, the teacher let someone bring a King Cake to the cafeteria. Whoever found the baby got to bring the cake the next day. This went on for a full month as we rotated through every person in the class. It was delicious, glorious, and all of our eight-year-old selves were crashing from our sugar rush just in time for dismissal. Poor parents.

Let me first be clear that this is not a political short story whatsoever. Being in healthcare, I am absolutely used to masking. While I may be tired of it and am glad I’m starting to see some of it coming to an end, to each his own. Do whatever makes you feel safe, but here is a quick short story that will let you know it may be time to put them away.