So, today is February 11th.
It’s a beautiful day. It’s a new day. We’re lucky we have this new day.
February 11th, 2011 was a different day. It was the day I was told my husband would not survive.
For over two months, this was a message repeated by nurses, doctors, even from the look on our custodian’s face.
It’s a day we celebrate as the first day of the rest of our lives.
But it’s not all celebration. We have so many emotions. For me, the feelings, the intense trauma resurfaces, and I get a bit melancholy. I get into a state of remembering. The memory is almost embedded in my DNA. I feel it to my bones, the shock, the survival mode, the fear, which I pushed down to be able to cope and live in hope.
So it is a day of remembrance. For Danny and I, we feel the periphery of all these emotions for a few weeks leading up to this date. We feel the gratitude, the appreciation, and the humility of our good fortune.
But every year since 2011, I have let myself feel again, all the things I probably didn’t really let myself feel when Danny was fighting for his life.
Mr. Cribby was then (and is now) a beloved teacher. I had to message in the Caringbridge blog the daily ins and outs of his battle in a way that was an amelioration x100 of what was really happening to him. His students, mine, the community, were all praying for him, thinking of him, hoping.
And I needed to honor their hope.
When I re-read the blogs that I wrote to keep our community updated, I cannot fathom how I made his daily dire circumstances sound as if there was any hope.
I don’t know what begat what, in all of this, in his miraculous recovery. Did his daily abiding love and care for his students leverage more love? Did my framing of his condition give hope, which led to positivity? Did the love that was pouring in, in forms of prayer, thought, and intention, change his circumstances to provide more hope? Did our friends and family, their constant care of us, uplift us? Did his sheer strength and will pull him through? Did all of it come together in a synergistic blast of love that healed?
All of these questions don’t really matter. I know this.
He survived. Love matters. We are blessed.
What happened to him led to the most beautiful event that provides support to others, every year. And, Mr. Cribby won’t like this. But he’s a hero. He’s a hero to all. And today, selfishly, my hero.
Goal: we get to help the Happy Smackah continue to thrive to help others.
Gratitude: this day. Every day. And our friends, who are our family, and our family, who surrounded us with all we needed so all of the energy could be for Danny to fight, and for me to have courage and purpose.