One of the true joys of being aware of the natural world is the ability to turn to some of its certainties for hope and solace. Although our urbanized culture has been divorced from daily, intimate contact with nature, our language is still rich with the promise that nature holds for the human condition. How many times in moments of great disappointment, or even chagrin or embarrassment, have you heard, “The sun will still come up tomorrow”? We know as a species that in our darkest moments, the hope of continuance, of redemption, a chance to live through and beyond the moment is always there. The proof lies not only in the daily sunrise, but in the seemingly eternal turn of the seasons. The starkest winter has always been followed by the exuberance and promise of a new spring.

All of this was brought home to me in a very personal way over the past month. Two days after I learned that my husband had been diagnosed with prostate cancer, my 84 year old mother fell and broke one of the vertebrae in her neck. The next three weeks were a fog of pain and fear. Then to add to the emotional taxation, there was the physical exhaustion of going from one health care facility to another, taking care of mom, and dad, caring for my husband and helping my daughter to cope with the possible loss of a dearly beloved grandmother. And, of course, I had to continue my own work because clients rely on me, and the work itself is important. There was no place to run, nothing to do, but endure.

Read the rest of the Nancy's column in our May issue...