I've been meaning to gather some photos from our family blog to help me develop my Exit By Text presentations, but discovered that I didn't have access to it because I no longer have my KUED email. I came across a lot and had to take a break from it. I'm not sure that I'm ready emotionally to deal with all of it. I did come across the astounding strength of my wife Lexy. I love her and am grateful for her talent of love. It's healing me in so many ways. This is a post from her, 12 days after the accident:
Today was a day of sitting and waiting and wondering. I held your hand and watched you trying so hard to tell me things through the one hand that is working. I had to turn away as I cried and hurt when I could not understand. As the sedation lessens and pain medications change, I watched you hurt and I watched you sleep and I watched you turn red with frustration. I watched your eyes sometimes be able to watch me and I felt you squeeze my hand so tight when you were in pain. I asked you not to be angry with me standing by while you worked so hard.
Today I talked about the things you said to me just 12 days ago. And sometimes, when I watched you open your eyes form those sedation-induced sleeps, I almost half expected you to say good morning, grab my hand, and walk right out of that room with me. I picked out new glasses that I hope you will like when you see them-- a late birthday present you meant to give me months ago but I never got around to ordering with you.
Today I want you to know that I love you. I love you, I love you. There are no other words, and yet they sound so trite. But I love you and would follow you off the edge of the world if I could be with you forever. I wish I could take this from you.
Today you signed "I love you" to me and my heart nearly fell on the floor. I wish you never had to suffer ever ever again. I think you've had enough.
Get better. Please get better.