We're nearing the year mark. Life was one way before and life is another since. As anniversaries will have you do, we have been remembering. Last night at the "after the movie discussion-eat-and-drink-time," Jed was asked, "Just how did this happen, anyway?" and "Were you unconscious?" among other questions of rememberance. So it all came back like a flash, the blood, the fear, the sirens, the EMTs, the lost keys, the "who should I call?," the skull bone, the knowing raised eyebrows, ...it all came back. ER is a very frightful place. There's puke, police, panic and prom dresses all within an eyes view. I had forgotten, but I remember now, the bathroom angel. I was deadpan. She looked at me and said, "Can I help?" From out of nowhere she comforted and prayed with me. I looked at her through tears and said, "Who are you?" She had flown in from Texas just that evening for a wedding tomorrow and ended up in ER with a friend. She assured me that Jed would be fine, walked out and I never saw her again. That kind of stuff has been happening for a year.
As terrible as this year has been, I can't say that it has been all bad. Jed and I have a stonger more trusting relationship than ever, our kids and family have surrounded us with love and support, we have become rich and wonderful friends with our care giver, we have been carried by our church and friends for months, and, even though we have lost our lifetime envestment, we have gradually climbed out, and are feeling somewhat like butterflies with wet wings, knowing that something wonderful is ahead of us, but fully aware that this is not yet the time.
Easter is a good time to think about what lies ahead and to look at the future with hope.
Dear Sherry,
ReplyDeleteI think of you and Jed everyday and pray that a miracle will happen. I stumbled onto your blog and I want to read every one of them.You are such a beautiful writer. I hope that someday you will publish these writings in a book. I think this would be helpful for others to read who are going through the same situation. And I think it is healthy for you to let your feelings out. I love you dear friend. My dad lost his sight just before our wedding due to detached retinas. He was immediately sent to Children's Hospital in San Francisco (where Bob Hope had his eye surgery). He was there about a month and then sent home with dark glasses with a pinhole in each lens. He could distinguish dark and light. Many trips were made back so San Fran. for checkups and each time he was told they had don all they could do. His condition lasted about a year. One day he was sitting on the back porch and fell asleep. When he opened his eyes, he saw the lake down in the valley. His sight was back and eventually he even got to drive again. Upon returning to S.F., doctors told him this was truly a Miracle and after so much time had passed, they didn't feel he would ever see again. God does work in mysterious ways, doesn't he. As hard as it is, keep your Hope alive that someday Jed will recover movement, especially in his arms and hands.Some of the things you have to do for Jed I can relate to from my in-laws experiences. Paul's dad had a car accident and his back was broken. From then on, he was wheelchair bound but he did have use of his arms which was a big help. He returned to being a principal. I had to chuckle about your grandsons hitching a ride on Jed's wheelchair. Our girls used to sit on grandpa's lap and he would take them for rides. He only had a manual wheelchair. I agree with your friend who commented that you need a ramp out to the backyard. You have a beautiful yard and it would probably help Jed to get out of the house. I love you, dear friend.Please let me know if there is something we can do to help you. I wish I could hear your beautiful voice sing again. Hope I haven't "talked" your ears off! Lots of Hugs and Love, Nancy Mahoney