These are the signs of what is coming. This tulip tree stands proudly in my yard reminding me of the seasons. Long before the grass seems to wake from its slumber, ages before other flowers emerge from the garden, this knobby tree rushes into action. It acts without regard to the weather. It acts according to the light. First, tiny green sprouts appear like hair on an army recruit. Then, almost overnight, flower buds swell. Finally, like a person rushing to get toilet paper at WalMart, they explode into the air.
The air is filled with bugs hungry from the long winter’s wait. Even the birds seems to rouse from the stupor. I stood under the tree and listened as the birds, who don’t read facebook, sang without concern for tomorrow. A Chickadee trilled and a Carolina Wren bounced and sang as the breeze gently swayed the branches. My feet made no noise as I stepped on the cushion of fallen petals. Spring is coming.
I looked up and took the photo and then slid into the car. We were driving to Arlington to see my Dad on the day he had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. What is coming seems far less certain. With chaos in the medical world, how will an old man’s journey progress? Will there be room for him at the hospital? Will the tests he needs be performed? The fact that Covid-19 is intruding into our world does not change the reality of the already sick. We can’t afford to have people abandon their posts.
I’ve walked down the cancer road with many people. It is never pretty. Occasionally, the cancer relents and slides into remission, but never without a bone numbing fight. We are not unaware of the path. We did what you do, we gathered, we hugged, we smiled, we prayed, we loved each other. We held back some, not wanting to give into the deep blackness of sadness and grief.
Because of my roll and visibility, because of deep friendship and love, many people want to reach out and say something, but I’m not quite ready yet, I just need some time to pray and process. What I (Cindy and Logan too) would like to ask is if you want to say something short and simple that will let us know that you are praying with us, that you love us, that you are pulling for us, that you know that cancer is rough, that you want to offer your support and help, then our code, just between you and me, is, “Spring follows winter.”
Those words, gently offered over the next few weeks would be such a joyful way to walk the road of suffering with us. We have hope in our doctors, faith in our Lord, and the love of family and friends.
We know that it will be spring again.