"Seasons of CF" by Ashley Ballou-Bonnema

I love the season of spring. I love its light and how its golden hues kiss the earth first thing in the morning. How the song of the mourning dove sings so clear and poetic at the sign of first light. How the grass and trees are bursting with vibrancy, illuminated by the soft rays of sunshine. It drenches the world in a warmth that radiates to the core of one’s being. The season of spring also represents new life, rebirth, and hope. 

When the first signs of spring erupt from their wintry slumber I feel a cold rigid weight lift from my chest. I sigh with a sense of relief - we made it through winter’s cold and merciless clutches. The season of winter can be most unkind, unforgiving, and unrelenting. The wintry season of CF is no exception. We plead with our bodies to be kind and hold out hope for any signs of spring - a simple reminder that we’ve made it through the hardest of days. 

Spring here in South Dakota came early this year. Daffodils and Tulips emerged from the cold hardened ground with shear force and determination unlike I’ve ever seen. The days were exceptionally warm and a familiar spring wind kissed my cheeks. With trepidation my heart and head whispered, “we made it” as I’d close my eyes and soak up the meaning of it all. Everywhere I’d look there were signs of the changing seasons. My heart began to truly believe we’d made it through the darkest and hardest of seasons: pancreatic cancer and ongoing CF respiratory and GI complications. With every new sign of spring my body began to soften.  A hardened and rigid mistrust melting away like winter’s snow-filled scenes  - giving way to beautiful blooms and lush landscapes.

There are still abundant signs of spring, but in true South Dakota fashion she’s decided to be unpredictable. We currently are enduring a cold and rainy two weeks in which temperatures are 20 degrees below average. It’s been days since we’ve seen or felt the sun - a reminder that spring still has a mind of its own and hasn’t fully arrived without hesitation. 

I just got word this morning that my doctor thinks it's best if I come in for an admission due to ongoing Respiratory and GI issues. Not the spring I had hoped for and truly needed. Fall and Winter’s unforgiving grip still trying to hang on for as long as it can. 

No matter the overcast skies or the chill that fills the air, there are still signs of spring everywhere if I merely choose to look. Even if this body is being stubborn, it also is showing signs of spring. I merely need to reflect back to the worst of winter’s wrath and remember how far this body has come and all that she’s endured. Spring is here and its hope is alive within every beautiful breath. I simply need to stop and look around and wait for the sun to shine.