I woke to the smell of spring drifting through an open window. Just that. The crushing nausea and the pain I that I had known for days was an arms reach away, but it wasn't sitting heavy on my stomach. I smiled. Tonia was still sleeping beside me. It was an easy glance from her face to the window past and the sliver of sky framed there.
Here's the thing about illness or injury. It can rob us of moments like this. Moments when what is right before our eyes is invisible somehow to our minds. This is why I fought so hard for all the second chances that I'd aided and witnessed. Gored by bulls in Texas, Rammed by buses in Boston. Shootings, stabbings, poisonings. Cancer. If a second chance could be won, that person could find their moments again.
My moment right now asked this question: If this was your last spring, would you celebrate it differently? Would the knowledge that it was the last rob any of it's beauty and joy? In the brief respite of my symptoms I looked tenderly at her face, and at the sliver of sky beyond. Each and every moment that I have cherished blooms anew this spring, and for the times when I can't see them I have transplanted the gratitudes of every other spring right into this one now overflowing moment.