For a brief and terrifying moment, the very real possibility of never being able to do any of this again presented itself in our lives.
Mike fell off the roof at our lake home during a roofing project and landed flat on his back.
But I’m here to tell you that nothing short of a miracle occurred; he got up, walked into the cabin and immediately iced his back. I trip to the ER was imminent, and an X-ray showed a compression fracture of the 3rd lumbar vertebrae, plus a break on the facet joint.
He can walk, move, sit, turn, stand, laugh and with proper healing, he should be fine.
To be able to say “He should be fine.” To watch him walk, even in the agony of the pain, to hear him making jokes and chuckling, to wake in the night reaching my hand over to feel him breathing, warm and solid is all that much sweeter and life affirming in the wake of any number of “What if…?” thoughts I try to continually push aside.
I’m getting to a point where I can relate the story fully, almost tear-free but I still feel like I can break down in the blink of an eye; just over three years ago, a youth pastor at our church had the same accident- falling off a roof- although his injury was more severe, and he hasn’t walked since. I keep thinking about him, and about Mike and the potential for the same devastating impact on our lives and when I do so for too long, I am a weeping mess.
I’m hoping he’ll be able to waterski again; that he’ll show me his awesome one-foot dock start, and the professional quality moves on the water, but we certainly won’t be doing any tandem knee-boarding together this summer like we really enjoyed last year.
And you know what? That’s all right with me. Because he walks, and jokes and laughs and still teases me while he wraps his arms around to embrace me, and grasp close all that we have. With proper healing, there’s always next summer and the fact that we’ll have that possibility makes me profoundly grateful.
It’s a stunningly sober thought to feel that there is but one moment of your life among the millions that you experience which drastically changes your perspective. I’ve had mine, thank you. Let me be done with them for now, please.