Against All Odds

After an extremely difficult few weeks -- the kind that make you question anything and everything -- I awoke yesterday to the sounds of birds chirping.

As I write, the window in my office is open and my dog is standing and staring out at the world that is industriously transforming from Siberian wasteland to ... well, it's not quite Hawaii, but it's certainly less stark than it was a couple days ago. I may need gloves soon, but I'm the fresh air is worth bundling up inside.

And then, yesterday, because I'm certain my outlook needed a little more help, I saw this as I was leaving my house:

At first I thought it was just some piece of junk left behind by the melted snow, but something made me do a double take. I got down on my hands and knees on the still chilly pavement and searched. Next I saw this:

I'm always amazed when I see the first of the spring bulbs battling their way through the still-frozen ground to make their appearance before a world that has very nearly given up hope that nice weather will ever come. Against all odds, they know the timing is right and they come with a message:

"Even if you lose hope, the seasons always change."

Two weeks ago, my dad had a heart attack after brushing snow off his car. Once he drove to the bagel shop, got his coffee and went home, he decided perhaps he'd better call an ambulance. The next day, the doctors announced that he would need 5 to 7 bipasses.

I didn't know you had that many things to bipass, but apparently you do.

Though I know the odds of successful surgery have come a long way, but I'm still amazed that, during the six hours my brother and I spent restlessly waiting on uncomfortable couches, they sawed my dad's sternum open, took arteries from his leg, used them to reroute arteries in his heart, closed him back up and started everything up again.

In 30 seconds, the surgeon told us he'd performed 6 bipasses, mumbled something about risk of stroke and was on his way to save more lives. Dad's recuperating in a nursing home and already trying to talk my oldest brother into sneaking him Rice Krispie Treats, diabetes be damned.

Spring comes and life goes on -- even when it doesn't seem like it will.

And, almost like they knew I needed a reminder, my bulbs made their early appearance yesterday. I hope they didn't sacrifice themselves for my mental well-being. It still seems pretty cold out there. In fact, I'd better close the window and turn the heat back up.