Not to skip over months and months as though they were not important, but we are home. Jed was released from rehab in June and we have been trying to make a life every since. Blessings have rolled is so much as to almost overwhelm us. People, people, people. People who give of themselves for our good. Over and over and over. We got a ramp built, a wheelchair transport car, a caregiver,visitations and food, all because people were there with hearts and arms open to us. Each of those have a story that I may one day tell in detail. We've been prayed over, prayed for and we've prayed until tears come and wash our hearts clean. We've been home 5 months. Jed is better than when I brought him home, but his progress is so slow that we get tired. We get tired of visitations. We get tired of food and cheery good will. We get tired of prayer and tears and hope. We just get tired. And when we get tired we turn on each other. We're really screaming, "I need more hope, more prayer, more visitations, more regularness," but instead we push it and each other away. But, we did not fall from Grace, so by the Grace of God, we pick our spirits up and move to the next day. He is close to walking, but yet he is so far away from a normal independent walk. He knows that, and all the "wow, way to go, you did a great job" gets under his skin. But he can't scratch it. It just festers there and makes him realize that he is not the man he once was. So who is he, he asks. He refuses to be that man spending his days in bed. But he is unable to make his body do what is mind is demanding. What a horrible curse. This is not for a weak person. A weak person would perish under the demands of living as a quadriplegic. Only the strong can be given this. Only the strong. We ponder the lessons we are to learn. We ponder and curse and pray and yell and cry and scream. But the people don't see that. The people see us together and almost normal. Trust me. This is not normal.