This weekend marks six months since Vernon’s accident. Of course I find this significant for a number of reasons.
I’ve been told it takes at least a year to recover from a brain injury, dependent on the severity. I imagine Vernon’s will take longer, but IF it took a year, we would be half way there! That must be some cause for celebration, anyway!
I don’t feel right going on about it in much detail here, but now that we have reached the six month mark, the police accident report should finally be released to me. For some reason that has been explained to me (yet I still fail to understand ) in my many visits and phone calls to the Sheriff’s Office early on, there was a six-month lock put on the information…to anyone. So until now I have only figured out what happened that night based on what I was told at the hospital and some clumsy detective work of my own here and there. I have not heard anything from the other driver. They may well have been advised not to make contact, who knows. It doesn’t really matter.
The point is…its a turning of the page, at six months. Things have shifted from survival to recovery mode. For both Vernon and our family. Things are moving from simply medical to legal. Even looking at care and insurance issues in this new phase has been mind-boggling, as until now we have been allowed to rest in whatever (excellent) place Vernon was placed in. Where he is now is excellent for what it does, but I think he needs more care specific to his unique injury (as noted in this week’s previous posts.) Do I sound like a broken record yet? If not, I’m sure I will.
People are so kind to tell me that they think I’m doing well in our situation, but I’ll let you in on a little secret.
Beyond all the Grace and Prayers and Miracles and Faith and psychology, which are more powerful than I can even try to credit, I will admit that one thing that keeps me from slowing down: he didn’t die.
And this is where it might get a little heavy. My most honest condolences to those who HAVE lost loved ones. I think about you all the time. I may not know you all, but I hurt for you…and I think about you. And I know that I am the lucky one. Vernon’s parents and his kids are the lucky ones. I know it sounds theatrical and cheesy, but I’ve been thinking about this for months. It’s part of what makes my state-of-mind.
Fate would have it that the same night of Vernon’s accident, the daughter of dear family friends was also in an accident. She was young, a wife and mother of two, just playing on a skateboard on Memorial Day weekend. She fell and received a head injury. As bad as Vernon’s was, hers was even more serious. Her family gathered around her in the hospital. Within the week, she was gone. I remember reading the update in a Starbucks and crying for the first time since our own family catastrophe.
A local TV station filmed this segment shortly afterward. Her husband told me it was okay to share this months ago, but I’m finally doing it. I think about these dear people often.
On top of that, I just found out this weekend, that my dear second-cousin Barbara had died suddenly. She was a nurse and hospital case-manager, who had helped me out as we navigated Vernon’s hospital journey. She just offered last week, on this very website, to help me sort out Vernon’s next move. Such a loss. She was an angel to so many besides myself.
We don’t get to chose the ones who get taken from us. We do get to love those we have with us.
And readers, even if you miss someone close to you, how wonderful that you still have those alive to be with. Enjoy them and the rare gift they are!