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A couple of months ago, in the midst of everything else going on here, my external hard-drive crashed.  This is where I kept all the family photos from the past few years.

I know…I know…I should have had another backup, but I didn’t. It WAS my back-up in case the computer crashed. Lesson learned.

Fortunately, I had printed out many pictures over the years, but most of our photographic memories were in that box.  Our years in England and then in California, the kids when they were younger, trips taken, mostly just random moments—being a photographer, I take a LOT of pictures.  When it annoys my family, I just say: “One day, you’ll be glad to have the pictures!”

But to potentially lose all these in the midst of Vernon’s coma seemed an especially ironic blow.

The local computer repair store wasn’t able to retrieve anything, so they recommended me to a place in LA that would most likely be able to restore the data. It would be expensive and I’d have to send it off.  This was about the time we were looking into long-term care centers for Vernon as far away as Downtown LA, so even the address hit a nerve with me.

Here was yet another parallel.  Vernon’s brain, full of his own memories and emotions and general functions, had crashed. It had suddenly stopped working, almost out of the blue.  And no matter how much I wanted the security that everything would be returned to normal, it was out of my control. We can hope and pray, and wait for word from the professionals, and hope and pray and wait some more. And that’s about it.

After a month, I still hadn’t heard from the Data Recovery People, and so I finally emailed them again.  I had probably avoided contacting them before because I didn’t want to hear the worst:  that somehow it had gotten lost in the post, and there was no drive for them to recover, if it was even possible.  They responded quickly to my message, at least, telling me that my precious box had arrived but the order had got misplaced. (It was kind of them to offer free shipping…too bad I couldn’t get the hours of lost sleep back, right?)

Anyway… back to my parallels about Vernon floating out in perceived space, on his adventure back to whole and healthy life,  this silly hard drive full of memories had become a real symbol.  Somehow I decided that the return of the fixed drive would a kind of sign of Vernon returning to me with his mind renewed and complete.  Like the dove that returns with an olive branch.

Apparently the damage was worse than I had anticipated (of the hard drive) but $600 later, a new drive with all my restored folders is being sent to me in the mail today.  It’s expensive (to me) but also (to me) those files are priceless.  And to add to the wonder of it all, the same day I got the bill, I also got a large check in the mail that covered the cost… a surprise residual check from episodes aired in 1996—that’s money owed me from 18 years ago! Will miracles never cease? (I hope not!)

I am on my way to the hospital after this post, but I must add one more thing.  Yesterday, Vernon was more physically active than I have seen yet. He was turning his head and moving his left arm and leg a LOT. He was also smiling and beginning to nod ‘yes and no’ to some of my questions.   Maybe the symbol of the hard drive coming back after so much concern and time is right-on, after all!  The timing sure fits!

“That is why we are not discouraged. Though outwardly we are wearing out, inwardly we are renewed day by day.”  2 Corinthians 4: 16

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