Life Is Beautiful. It Really Is.

It was 10 degrees F. at 5:00 a.m. this morning when I dragged myself out of bed. I have a Saturday doctoral class from 9:00 a.m. until 2:00 p.m. at Towson University. It snowed and ice-stormed and stayed in the teens all week. There was a four-inch thick accumulation of hard-packed ice on my car hood and half way up my windshield.

My wife of 35 years, Marilyn, worried that I might not be able to see well enough to safely drive the 65 miles from home to Towson. Still in her robe and gown, covered with her wool overcoat and winter hat, she went out into the biting cold to remove the ice. Trip after trip, from the kitchen sink for warm water to soften the ice, to the car and back. Marilyn, a breast cancer survivor (since 2003) and with three steel pins painfully holding her left hip together, did this to make sure I might travel safely.

I sat in the kitchen doorway in my dirty yellow wheelchair helplessly watching. I offered gratitude, support, and a warm drink waiting. It rips out my heart to see this sweet and gracious Southern Lady doing so masculine a thing in the cold morning air. She sensed this and said selflessly with a smile, “Think of all that you do for me.”

Life is not a pretty picture at times. But look again. What you see is two people helping each other make it as best they can. It is a beautiful picture, beautiful beyond belief.