Yesterday would have been my and Himself’s 32nd anniversary. It was #3’s 27th birthday, and also his and The Fine Wife’s 4th anniversary.  July 26th was a pretty eventful day in our family. When I wished #3 happy birthday, he was kind of unimpressed by it…probably because he’d just come from an entire day of physical therapy and was exhausted. He was, as is typical these days, amazed that The Fine Wife married him and had their baby. “We MADE HIM!” he said of Grandpunkin. “HE CAME FROM US! HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN?!” (oh boy, does this mean I have to have The Talk with him again?)

As expected, Himself was on my mind a lot yesterday. Life frustrated him, and I am happy for him that now he’s in Heaven, and since there’s an eternity of time there, he can relax and spend time perfecting the things he didn’t have time to work on here. He loved woodworking, making things, and was good at it, but due to work, didn’t have time to do it the way he wanted. So now I imagine him there, with all the time there is, carefully teaching himself (or maybe he’s working with other woodworkers who’ve gone before him) fancy joinery techniques with all the wood he couldn’t bring himself to spend the money on…birdseye maple and curly walnut and the like. It gives me great emotional satisfaction to know he’s no longer frustrated. I have a tremendous amount of peace from that.

#3 is learning life all over again. He has 2 things he says now. “It’s real.” and “Absolutely!” When someone is honest with him, or shows him kindness and patience, or love, that person is Real. “Mom, the physical therapist is Real.” He has some trouble with words still, but is getting there. It’s worse when he’s tired, but almost non-existent when he’s fresh and rested.  He told me he went to a club, and there were a lot of people there and they did a lot of singing and someone got up and talked a bunch about God. He talked with someone afterwards about God for a little bit. “Mom, God is real. He does a lot of things for me I didn’t even know about. He’s Real.”  The doctors are Real, as are his physical therapists and Dr. B…the veterinarian he worked for several years ago. He also says “Absolutely!” when I say things like “it’s going to be tough for a bit but you’re strong and smart and can do this.” or “Your wife loves you very much” or “Grandpunkin is your son!”   He gets frustrated sometimes…ok…a lot. Who wouldn’t? He wants to be working. We all tell him his job right now is to get better. Absolutely! He hates what his body is doing right now. A month ago his body didn’t work at all, look how far he’s come! Absolutely!  At this rate, he’ll be able to go back to work sooner than anyone ever expected! (especially since The People Who Know Things said he’d never get out of bed or be able to talk) Absolutely!  His brothers are Real…they keep in touch with him, come visit when they can, harass him in that way only brothers can. “Mom, my brother came to visit. He’s Real. They are all Real. I talk to them on the phone.” Well, you’re their brother and they love you. Absolutely!

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He’s talked about Himself a little bit. He doesn’t remember him dying but he knows he did. He still has the memories of him prior to January 2015. I am thankful he didn’t lose any of those.

July 26 used to be one of my favorite days. Now it’s more bittersweet than anything. My sorrow at losing Himself has smoothed out and been replaced with joy for him (which was always there, but sad for myself, I guess). Especially now The Fella is in the picture. Himself hasn’t been replaced…that’s the thing about losing a spouse like this. When someone new comes along, the past hasn’t been replaced, but instead the heart is expanded to allow for the new person. Widowhood is like that. Love doesn’t end when the person dies, but the heart grows and allows for the next person, the next chapter to come along and be written. #3’s story is much different from what he’d planned. So is mine. So is The Fella’s, and those of my other sons. What’s that saying…”If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans” If I’ve learned anything over the last 3-1/2 years, it’s that there’s nothing wrong with having plans, but be flexible because they will change.

Now? Well, now the trajectory of our lives made a sudden turn that was hidden on the back side of a hill and around a bend. Now, The Fella and I are embarking on a new journey together. #3 and his people are in a completely different dynamic and the work they do has changed entirely.  #’s 1,2, and 4 are changing directions. Thankfully, God knows what He’s doing even when we don’t. And we can rest in that. Absolutely.


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That’s Life

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.  Joshua 1:9

God never promised us a peaceful and comfortable life. He promised that He’d be with us in the hard times, and that His ultimate plan for us is a good one…by His definition of good, not ours.

Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand. Proverbs 19:21

In fact, His promises to be with us in the hard times are all through Scripture. Old and New Testaments, all over the place. The Word is slam full of them. You’d almost think one of the purposes of The Bible is to reinforce the promise that He’s with us all the time, good times and bad, when we’re in the midst or prosperity or persecution.

I’ve been thinking back over the last few years. I say few, let’s make that, say, 15 years. They haven’t been easy. Himself worked so much  I often felt like a single mother with 3 teenaged sons, and I didn’t do a very good job of it. It was as hard on the boys as it was on me. Probably harder. There are things that happened about which I have to try hard not to be bitter.  There was hope on the horizon that his work would settle down and become more…I don’t know…humane. Reasonable. Before that happened, however, he had that heart attack and died. That…sucked.

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I was left to deal with our sons (I almost said “the boys” but they aren’t boys anymore) and didn’t do a very good job of it. I’ve never been a boy so I don’t know how they think. I did what I thought was right but often it wasn’t because I was operating on feelings instead of logic. Now they are grown men and I have let them go…sort of. I have to allow them to do their own things and make their own ways, just as I am doing new and different things I never thought I’d be doing.  That’s really hard. My impulse is to make everything easy and cushy for them but no one grows during the easy times, and I want them grown and independent.

I met The Fella, and we’re making plans for a brand new life together. New House, New Plans, New Ideas, all things I’d actually kind of dreamed about and thought “wouldn’t it be fun if” and “wouldn’t it be a great idea to” but I’d kind of settled into the notion that I’d get my community college associate’s degree (which I did, Magna Cum Laude, y’all) (not to brag…ok totally to brag.), find a job as someone’s administrative assistant working Mon-Fri 8-5, and do that for the next 15 years.  Did I WANT to do that? No, not really. What I WANT to do is grow things, make things, sell things, travel, cook meals for people, and take a day off when I want to or maybe decide on a Thursday to go to the beach on Friday. I worked 5am-10pm 7 days a week for 28 years, with maybe a weekend off once or twice a year. I’d take Thursdays “off” by not scheduling any sort of appointments that day, not doing laundry or cleaning, and fixing something lazy for supper. (but…you took vacations with your family!  Right…vacations are more like double the work when you’re the mom.) But now, I want to do things that aren’t so….scheduled. Good thing is, The Fella thinks the same way I do.

Every now and then, he and I look at each other and are amazed that we each found someone who’s desires and wishful thinking for the future matches our own. The only thing that is different is the way each of us makes chili. He’s also a bit more fastidious than I am. His skills (metalworking, gardening, fixing things that don’t work right) are ones that overlap mine to a degree that working together is a pleasure. His desires for travel and making use of time are almost exactly the same as mine, and his ability to motivate my lazy self is  unparalled.  He is almost as fond of my sons as I am. We are both completely convinced that our meeting wasn’t accidental and even though we are both dealing with stuff that is difficult in our own lives, having each other to lean on, and both of us keenly aware of God’s hand in our lives and how He does His work in sometimes peculiar ways, means we have this sort of lifeboat to rest in while the waves toss us around.

Life isn’t easy. No one ever said it would be. Sometimes it really stinks, hurts, and overwhelms. Some people go through more than others, and no one can really answer why that is. I don’t know why I’ve been put in a country where I can freely talk about God, and Jesus Christ without any fear of persecution. I don’t know why my children are going through such difficulties (and they all are, each of their own types, not just #3), why Himself died, and why God saw fit to drop The Fella in my lap. There are myriad “I don’t know whys” and likely I’ll never, on this Earth, know the answers to them all. But I do know that Life isn’t promised to be clean and tidy. What is promised is that we are never alone in it, no matter how much it feels like we are.

A Psalm of David. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. …Psalm 23:1-6

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Get to work!

#3 continues to improve. At this point, it has slowed down to more of a “filling in the details” sort of thing. He had those dramatic leaps, from comatose to talking in a month, and now he’s changing and improving in more subtle ways.

For instance, he feels like he’s 17, and says his memory stops at January 6, 2015. He doesn’t remember his father dying, or the birth of his son, or his house burning down. He knows those things happened, but simply doesn’t remember them. It hit me pretty hard, that he had to learn all over again about the death of his father. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone my son.  He is daily amazed that he’s married to The Fine Wife, and the number of healed wounds on his body increases by 1 or 2 every day. When he first realized what they were, he said he had 27 of them. Actually I think he has 12 or 13, but 27 is the number I always used to mean “a lot”…as in “How many bags of groceries do you have to carry in?” “27!” or “how many children do you have?” “At least 27, possibly more.” So I think he was saying 27 because he knew there were a lot. However, that was about a week ago. Yesterday he had 31 and today he has 37.

He is bothered by the missing 3-1/2 years. Who wouldn’t be? He doesn’t remember what sort of work he did, or how he did it. He said he needs to go back to work and I told him right now his job is to do the physical and speech therapies to get into a position where he could go back to work. I told him of the man I’d met who had been in a similar situation as him, and it took him 2 years to recover but now you’d never know he was ever in an accident. “2 years. That’s a long time.” he said. It is a long time, but he was really badly hurt. “Mom, I think I died. I have a traumatic brain injury and my brain is having a hard time now. I can’t find the words.” “#3, a month ago you weren’t talking at all. 2 weeks ago you had words but none of them made sense. Now you can have a conversation and only miss a word now and then.”

A lot happened. People all of the world have been praying for him. He knows he is a miracle. He knows God has a plan for him, but right now he has to focus on getting his body working well, and getting his mind back on track. He may never recover those lost 3-1/2 years, or they might come back in bits and pieces, or he might wake up one morning and remember everything. No one can answer that. I hope he gets it back, so he can remember the birth of his son and all the things he and his family have done. I hope he can get back the skills and knowledge he had, and be able to return to work, or maybe school, or something. But for now, I am resting in the place where he’s at now. He’s talking, and walking (with help), in physical therapy to get his left arm and leg working like it should. That’s his job now.

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The Brothers

The Brothers (#s 1,2 and 4) have been affected by #3’s accident as much as I have. Now, they’ve all 3 had work and such, so haven’t been able to be with him as much as they’d said they wanted to, and it has been upsetting and discombobulating to have their hyperactive and bossy brother in such a state. Since they each live in a different town from each other and from me, they also haven’t had the constant emotional support that is kind of necessary in this sort of situation…except they sort of have. Thanks to modern electronics and the internet, they can communicate back and forth. Thanks for modern transportation, they can get together regularly (when work schedules allow). It is heartwarming to now that they are looking out for each other. I have kind of stepped back, trying to keep from being Mommy, but also calling and texting regularly (refer to the “live in different towns”) to see how they’re doing. They seem to be ok…though life can be difficult when you’re still working out the details of it.

I have always marveled at how different they are from each other. Personality, likes and dislikes, how they handle things…all 4 of them do things differently from each other, and yet, (especially now that they’re grown men) they care for and about each other in that way every parent hopes to see with their children.  There were times when they were growing up that they didn’t get along, all those personality differences…but now, even with that, they obviously care deeply for each other, and seek to help each other in the ways their particular personalities allow.

Knowing that we raised these young men who love each other, are compassionate toward others, generous in their own particular ways, talented, all those good things, makes me proud to be their Mom. I know I’m not perfect, there’s things I wish I’d done differently when they were younger (what parent doesn’t have regrets?). When I see them looking out for each other, helping each other with whatever it is they need, that makes me smile. I struggle sometimes (ok…more than that…) with wanting to swoop in and fix whatever they’re dealing with. When I know one of them is dealing with something difficult, wanting to fix it is the first impulse. However, fixing everything so their life is easy also denies them the opportunity for growing, for figuring out how to solve the problem on their own, and that doesn’t actually help them. Sure is hard, sometimes, though. However, seeing the personal sense of accomplishment, and the pride they have when they solve the problem on their own, is worth it.

I’ve written almost exclusively about #3 in the past month. He’s been the biggest source of drama. But #1, 2, and 4 are still here, still doing their lives, and just as affected as I have been. They worry as much as I do, but still have to work, study, pay bills, and all that. I have thought about each of them while this has gone on, and fretted about something as dramatic happening to one of them. Could I handle it? (probably….though it wouldn’t be pretty). I pray for God’s protection over each one of them every day.

I am very proud of each of them. Not because of anything I did, but because of how they are now. How they handle a crisis, how they look after each other, how they manage to figure out what is best for themselves. They’re grown men now and their lives are their own. My job raising them is done (has been for a long time). Being able to see them as compassionate men who care for the well-being of others, that means the world to me.


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Miracle Man

It would be really easy to say something like “he probably wasn’t hurt all that bad” and “You’re such a drama queen” when looking from the outside in, on this whole #3 drama, because his recovery has been so fast. But when a neurologist says things like “likely won’t wake up” and “if he wakes up he’ll probably be minimally functional” and the orthopedic surgeons and facial surgeon have this sort of “well, we did the best we could, thanks for letting us practice on him” demeanor, and internet research (it was brief and panic inducing) said 90% of people like him never wake up…one can’t help but see what has happened as miraculous.

Jesus replied, “What is impossible with man is possible with God.” Luke 18:27

The Fine Wife and #3 came home Thursday. I’d see him the previous Saturday, and he was having trouble balancing when sitting up, was frustrated and angry and seemed like he was near his breaking point. I saw him this Saturday, one week later, and he was chilled out in his recliner, box of Cheezits and bottle of Muscle Milk (strawberry flavored, his favorite) on the table. He looked at me and said “Hi Mom”, looked at The Fella and stuck his hand out for a handshake. He speech was soft and quiet, as his tracheostomy hasn’t quite closed up, and occasionally garbled because he’s still having to find his words. However, he had purpose in his gaze and was very intentional with his movements. He was able to tell The Fine Wife when he needed help with something. He played with The Grandpunkin. He copied my hand squeezes when I counted them out and asked him to….patiently with a “Yes, Mom, I know you need the encouragement but really. I’m fine.” attitude.

One of his friends showed up, and he and The Fella picked #3 up and put him in his wheelchair. He wheeled himself around the house, only needing a little help getting it over the threshold to the front porch. Sitting on the porch, watching the traffic go by, he said “I really love this.” The Fella said “I thought you didn’t like living on this road” and he answered “No, this is great. I love this.”

He kept trying to give the 6 goats in the backyard to The Fella. “These are all yours. All of them.” he said. He tried to give a bunch of parts he’d ordered before the accident to his friend. The friend said he’d take them, but just to get them out of the way for a while, then he’d give them back later.

He’s also decided he liked Petey, the little chihuahua he once despised with an all-consuming hatred.  He had talked about how much he wanted to commit assorted acts of violence against Petey (but never did), and I’d seen how Petey would squint at #3 whenever he came in the room. This time? Petey was all up in his lap, loving on him, and he was petting him, talking about what a good dog he was, and how much he loved him. I asked him about the change of mind, and he said “He’s a good dog. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He is the one you praise; he is your God, who performed for you those great and awesome wonders you saw with your own eyes. Deuteronomy 10:21

He’s still confused about some things. He told me he was 17 or 18 years old. I said “No, you’re 26 and that’s your wife and child.” He was kind of astonished by that.  The Fine Wife said he had to hear something several times to retain it, but he was retaining stuff now.  He said a few things that were just garbled consonents and vowels…not really words, but he also said enough words that were completely appropriate, I think his brain is still getting unscrambled from getting his bell rung so hard. (So hard, in fact, the doctors didn’t think he’d recover. Remember that? I’ll never forget it.) Considering what happened…I am still completely astonished, yet at the same time, not at all…because God’s so much more powerful and capable than any neurologist.

“But if I were you, I would appeal to God; I would lay my cause before him.  He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted. Job 5:8-9

His left hand…2 weeks ago was completely nonfunctional. A week ago he was able to hold things in it, but that was it.  Saturday, he was able to grip my hand with it only a little less than with the right hand. He still has a bit less control over it than with his right hand, but he’s getting there. He can wheel himself in a wheelchair. He can move both legs (but not put any weight on them yet). Drink from a glass, feed himself, play with his child, read (yes…he can read. He knows words well, just has trouble saying them), do math…The Fine Wife says having him do math actually calms him down when he starts getting fractious. I want to get him some brain teaser type books to help work his mind. He uses his whiteboard a lot, when his words just aren’t working right, because writing works when speaking doesn’t.

“I am the LORD, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me?  Jeremiah 32:27

His will to heal and relearn and simply not give up…is inspiring. He knows where it all comes from. Right now he doesn’t talk about God, that I am aware of, and he can’t go to church yet. I know pretty soon he will be able to. I also know The Fine Wife, his in-laws, grandparents, The Fella and I will make sure he understands what sort of miracle he really is.

 By faith in the name of Jesus, this man whom you see and know was made strong. It is Jesus’ name and the faith that comes through him that has completely healed him, as you can all see. Acts 3:16

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I am not a patient person.. Never have been. Maybe one day I will be. I said earlier that I thought perhaps one thing to come out of #3’s accident would be learning patience. Well, I wish God would hurry up with that, because so far, patience comes in little blips with a lot of “FIX THIS NOW” in between them.

#3’s recovery will be spells of improvement with plateaus in between. He has so much to do, and so far to go, and how far he’s come really is miraculous, but…I want him to be ALL BETTER NOW. Thing is, his brain was pretty banged up. And the brain…controls everything. It takes a while for it to recover from things. It has only been one month (as of yesterday) since his accident. You hear about people being in accidents and remaining comatose for months before waking up. He was out for a week, then started coming to. Now he’s awake like a normal person (with naps…so like a normal tiny human person), and his behavior is that of a very young person. Like…kind of like a toddler, with Skills. His recovery mentally is following the progress of a baby, only much faster. I think I’ve said that before.

He got to come home yesterday. Hopefully being home will help him feel better mentally and emotionally. His moods have been very volatile (normal for brain injured people) and that’s been rough on The Fine Wife and everyone else. But then, if you think of a toddler, and The Terrible Twos….they’re called that because kids that age are so tempermental. That doesn’t make it easier, especially when he’s got the 26 year old man in there as well. It gets complicated.

But patience…that’s what’s needed more than anything. And it’s something I don’t have much of so when I see him looking a little bit vacant, or get a report that he’s trying to get out of bed (body isn’t healed enough to hold him yet), I panic. And yet, it’s only been a month. And other people with similar injuries take MONTHS to wake up, let alone be able to put their own shirts on and get a fork of food to their mouths….and here he is, doing these things and I can see those are miracles…but still I am scared. God tells us to trust His timing.

But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. 2 Peter 3:8

For there is a time and a way for everything, although man’s trouble lies heavy on him. Ecclesiastes 8:6

God has answered so many prayers for #3. I have such joy in that. Seeing His handiwork in the lives of #3 and his family is amazing. Part of me says “Whaaaat?!” and the other part says “Of course He did. He’s God and can do anything.” But there’s also a part that fears and worries and is so pitifully human and frustrating. There’s all these “what if’s”. What if his brain doesn’t recover. What if his leg doesn’t heal properly and he can’t walk. I’m not so worried about all that as I am about his brain. There’s plenty of things that can help a person get around, and plenty of stuff, productive stuff, he can do if his body isn’t quite back to it’s old self. But his brain…what about that?

STOP WORRYING…says The Fella. STOP WORRYING says God, and Jesus, and Paul in the Bible.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Phillipians 4:6-7

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.  Matthew 6:33-34

Anxiety in a man’s heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad. Proverbs 12:25

There’s a whole ton of stuff about worry and anxiety in God’s Word. It all leads to one point: STOP WORRYING. GOD’S GOT THIS.  So once I remind myself of all this stuff God has said about it, I can kind of relax…a little bit. God’s got this. #3 is in the palm of His hand, working through the plan God has for him, God’s taking this awful circumstance and weaving it somehow into His plan for #3 and all the people around him. Just because I don’t know how He’s doing it doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. I know what *I* want to happen- that #3 will be whole and fully functional, and SOON. I also know that God doesn’t need my input on this. He will listen to my prayers and all the prayers from all over for #3, and if those prayers are asked according to His will, they will be answered.

And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him. 1 John 5:14-15

And call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me. Psalm 50:15

Just like the Good book says about worrying (STOP IT), it also says a lot about God hearing what we ask for, and answering those prayers, as long as they fit with His will for our lives. (DO IT). God has done amazing things in #3’s life. He has taken circumstances and molded #3 into a man who loves Him, and loves his family, and works hard to provide and be the effective head of the household. Now he’s teaching #3 something new. I’m not sure what…maybe patience, maybe how to trust other people and rely on them when he needs to…I don’t know. But there’s something in there for #3 as well as for everyone else, even me.

I just wish I knew exactly what it was so I could prepare for it!



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Motivation and drive

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, Hebrews 1:12

I held on tight to this verse after Himself died. I imagined him as being in that cloud, as I maneuvered through a new and uncertain path.  Now #3 is on a new and unfamiliar path. There’s a cloud of witnesses cheering him on as well. Himself, his great-grandmother, many others. He has a large cheering section here on Earth as well. People all over the world are checking on him almost every day. They’re praying for him, asking how they can help once he gets home, generally wanting so badly to ease the difficulties sure to come in the future.

He’s getting better…and not slowly either, even though he thinks it’s taking WAY too long. He’s never been one to want to sit around and wait. The Fine Wife got him a white board and some markers, and he promptly started writing on it. He can easily answer yes/no questions, sign his name (his handwriting looks just the same: terrible), and fill in an assortment of mental tasks. I wrote numbers 1-5 and he continued the counting…so nothing wrong there.

I am the LORD, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me? Jeremiah 32:27

Physically he’s improving as well. Getting his balance back and such. His hand-eye coordination is exceptional. It always has been, and it’s nice to see that hasn’t changed. He does get a bit disgusted at the simplicity of the tasks they’re putting him through- little kids puzzles and such.  The Fella spoke to him about that. He MUST do them, otherwise they won’t know what he’s capable of. #3 and I, then he and The Fine Wife, played catch for a little while. He has no problem with that. His left hand is very weak and he has trouble using it, but it’s getting better as well. It will be a long time before he can stand up, probably late August before they even try, due to how much his legs were damaged and the extent of the surgery. He’s determined enough that I have no doubt he’ll be able to by mid-Fall.

 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.  Ephesians 3:20-21

They’re going to let him go home in a week or two, to finish healing up before he starts the really intense therapies. That’s going to be where the real work happens and I hope he’s able to see the importance of it.

I’m very proud of him, and how well he’s doing. He’s showing a real drive to get out of there and back to living life the way he thinks it should be lived. He’s a testament to the power of prayer, and a genuine miracle.He wasn’t supposed to wake up, now he’s writing his name and answering questions. If he woke up, he was supposed to be minimally functional. Now he’s in physical therapy, wowing the people with the rapidity of his improvements. In just 2 days he went from being unable to hold himself up, to sitting up without help. He keeps trying to stand and we have to keep reminding him he isn’t ready. Mentally, sure he is, but those legs have to heal and they can’t hold him yet.

I won’t say his mental self is back to 100%, but every day he’s a bit closer to his old abilities. He is, without a doubt, himself. Right down to the looks of digust at the speech therapist baby-talking to him and the flipping a bird at someone behind him when he was giving me a hug. I am so much more at ease about him now. What a roller-coaster ride this has been. But what an amazing thing God has done for all of us, laughing at my doubt, saying “Hey y’all, watch this!”

 He is the one you praise; he is your God, who performed for you those great and awesome wonders you saw with your own eyes.  Deuteronomy 10:21

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