Tainted Daffodils

Last week Maddie came running into the house saying she had spotted our first daffodils, just down the street. I ran out, and when I saw that it was in front of our neighbor's home a few doors down, I was reminded that this spring will be much, much different for them.

{Once winter hits, we Chicago folk hunker down inside, rarely seeing our neighbors, except maybe as we pass on the street.}

A few weeks ago we ran into Mr. and Mrs. O, the first time in months, and realized that cancer had taken over his body this winter. Normally robust and full of life, he was gingerly shuffling down the street with his sweet wife of 45 plus years, holding his arm, steadying him as he walked just a hundred feet or so.

We haven't seen them all winter, so seeing him like this made me realize that while the seasons march on, so does this dreaded thing we call cancer. His wife quietly whispered to me that "He got cancer over the winter and just got out of the hospital." At a loss for words, my response was simply, "I'm so, so sorry."

Sobering.

So while I loved seeing our first daffodils last week, I couldn't help but think that this Spring, they're just a little bit tainted.