Jon Hurwitch was, he says, “a middle-aged workaholic running my own business, overweight and too busy to focus on my health.” He was often out of breath and fatigued when golfing or walking through airports. But he and his partner were busy negotiating to sell their company, so he postponed his annual physical.

Following the sale of their Washington, DC-based energy consulting firm, Jon saw his doctor. He sent him straight for a thallium stress test. The test confirmed what Jon expected: his blocked arteries required a stent to return his blood flow to normal. The procedure was scheduled for the next day, Friday, August 13, 2010. Jon was not a triskaidekaphobe. (Is that a great word or what?) Friday, the 13th didn’t scare him. When he woke up from the angiography, a preliminary procedure that pinpoints blockages, he got the bad news. He had a blockage they called a “widow maker,” says wife Susan. Jon needed to undergo emergency coronary bypass surgery. ASAP.

Open heart surgery was scheduled for Monday, August 16. Jon would have to wait “an agonizing 3 days” until blood-thinner Plavix left his system. He pleaded to return home for the weekend, but that was a no-go. Docs were concerned about a potential coronary emergency. So Jon spent the weekend with visits from Susan and their two daughters.

But mostly Jon was alone with his thoughts. How had he let himself get into this health predicament? How would he change his life if given a second chance? He thought about his mother Ann, as he often did when making big decisions. What would she advise?

The surgery took place around noon on Monday, August 16th. Doctors deemed it a success. As Jon lay recuperating in intensive care, Susan remained nervous. “Time stood still for me that weekend,” she says. The first visitor allowed into the ICU, she found herself by her husband’s side amid the hum of the latest lifesaving technologies. As she got her bearings, she glanced at the clock on the wall. A calendar hung above. Spotting it, she says, “My heart skipped a beat.” The date still displayed August 13. It was the birthday of Jon’s beloved mother, who had died in 1989. “I was flooded with the comforting feeling that Jon’s mother was watching over him and that he would be fine.”

Jon has recovered and has made significant life changes. He retired to Sarasota 2 years later and is a proud cheerleader for his daughters. Eldest, Beryl, is a photographer whose online website (www.berylaynyoung.com) teaches young mothers about DSLR (Digital Single Lens Reflex) and iPhone camera technology. Younger, Sara, recently married Andrew Stephens. Both are golf teaching pros in Cincinnati. ([email protected]) I sometimes play with Susan. Based on her plummeting handicap, I can vouch for the Stephens’ abilities.

Jon knows he’s been given a second chance to watch his family flourish. And to grow. Granddaughter Brielle and grandson Nolan have since arrived. Jon’s mom instilled in him the importance of family. Susan and Jon feel her presence. They know she’s watching over this new chapter in their lives.