If I could encapsulate all the things I am forever grateful for, it would breathe life into the dead trees that lost their way in the storm. It would calm the ocean and quiet the winds.

I am grateful for second chances. For recovery and restoration. For Cleveland lights, cold air ambulances, and for doctors who constantly reminded her where she was and that she was going to be okay.

For late nights and early mornings.

For quiet but confident doctors and nurses who saved her life.

For my Wesleyan Sweatshirt, which became an opener for so many soulful conversations with hospital strangers in cold waiting rooms.

For being exhausted beyond belief, but not giving a shit about how I looked. For being so afraid, the exhaustion became an afterthought. For clarity in times of despair and shock.

For distractions. And precise surgical hands. And beeping monitors.

For giving up, giving in, and surrendering. For prayer. And God. And love.

For the Au Bon Pain in the hospital.

For less tubes, more movements, more laughter, more independence. For Judge Judy and tear-filled laughter. For new hearts, new arteries, a new medical dictionary on my tongue, and caring night nurses.

For calm words, and kind deeds, and talking to her like she was a person. A truly embodied person. Not just a sick, sleeping person with no connections to this world.

For health…

It is most precious of things. The most priceless. The most needed.

For second chances. Always, always, always. For second chances.