Forgive me for another post similar to the last one... but today I woke up and the first things on my heart were what happened after the accident last year. Once again, the memories begged to be set free from the trap of my mind.
But first, I had to look up the word nostalgia. I love this word probably because I carry so much of it with me all the time. Put it together with the fact that I am good with dates, and it seems that every week of the year there is something that I remember and become nostalgic about from some earlier point in my life (even as far back as childhood). One of the definitions is, "a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life."
I don't know that I ever desire to return to these memories, but I really enjoy basking in the glow of them. Interesting that I should be so nostalgic about a living nightmare that we entered last year. I am concluding that it's the good things I am feeling nostalgic for - the way family and friends rallied around us, the way Christ's love was all-consuming, the way all other things in life just faded away and didn't matter.
Ok, so back to my musings about one year ago today, October 7th. It was the day between the accident and Enzo's official death.
One year ago, Todd and Kate did not leave Enzo's bed side. They didn't sleep or eat. They refused medical care for themselves. They cried and prayed all day long over their baby's body on life support. The medical staff did all sorts of tests on Enzo to find any sign of brain activity. No matter what they did, they could find none at all. Initially the doctors told us it would get worse before it got better. Unfortunately, the worse was well here and it would not be getting better (we still had hope though). But through this day, Todd and Kate never, ever gave up. They refused to believe what the doctors told them. They never, ever gave up.
One year ago, Amy went to the hospital for good parts of the day to just be there and relay information to us. News stations from Seattle began calling and doing phone interviews. Amy was even willing to do a face to face interview, although it never happened because Enzo's tests were giving such hopeless results to us.
In Detroit, Elisabeth was in the middle of a rigorous school schedule, but still bought a plane ticket to be flying out the next day. I know how much she was sacrificing by taking time away from her her studies to come.
And here in Colorado, in perhaps one of the biggest displays of love in this whole ordeal, my best friend Michelle offered to leave her family for a few days to make the long drive up to Washington with me (1500 miles) since my husband was out of the country. Through this journey, the miracle of Enzo's sunset happened on the next day (you may read it here: http://baby-zo.blogspot.com/2010/10/story-behind-zos-sunset.html).
This day was a day caught between hope and fear - the doctors were saying he would not live, but we knew the God of miracles might provide one here. It was hard to eat, hard to sleep, hard to do much of anything being strung so tightly between two extremes.
So why would I be so nostalgic about such a stressful, tension filled day like this? Maybe because I look back and see God's total and complete faithfulness. I imagine that befuddles the minds of some - how can God be faithful when he let our littlest family member die? I don't have an easy answer to that, but I encourage you to read God's Word. Trust your life to his care and when your valleys come, He will walk through them with you.
My beautiful friend Karen showed me this video yesterday. It was a song that kept her going in her own valley several years ago - enjoy. :)
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Friday, October 7, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
At this moment, one year ago....
I happen to be feeling very contemplative at the moment and I just looked down at the clock to realize it is exactly around the time that, one year ago, the car accident happened.
One year ago, Kate was spinning. Hearing the sounds of shattering glass and crunching metal and - of her husband screaming.
On year ago, my parents were relaxing at home and receiving a phone call. Hearing Todd panicking that Zozo wasn't breathing... and began racing to the scene of the accident. My mom didn't even stop to put on her shoes.
One year ago, my phone rang and I knew something bad was on the other end. All I heard was hysterical sobbing and had to ask the caller to repeat what was said... my body began to shake from deep inside...
One year ago, my sister Amy was not answering her phone as I tried again and again and again to call... she finally called back after awhile after seeing so many missed calls to hear "WHERE have you been?!" I can still hear the shock in her voice to be greeted in such a way. :)
One year ago, my sister Elisabeth was awakened from a sound sleep when my phone call came through... and didn't get much sleep the rest of the night.
One year ago today, this blog was born... and had 20,000 hits in the first 36 hours of it's life. One year later, it has almost 70,000 hits and has touched dozens of lives (that we know of) - maybe more. When I began this blog, I thought it would just be for family members and close friends to keep posted on Enzo's condition. At that point, we thought he would be fine after awhile. This blog was supposed to simply keep people updated on his long road of recovery we knew was ahead.
Little did we know this blog would turn into a journal of grief, a testimony to God's faithfulness through our valley of the shadow of death. Little did we know an entire community, plus hundreds more people around the globe, would follow this story and rally around our family.
Thank you to everyone reading this. Thank you for following our journey and for allowing us to rant, rave and share our deepest feelings of the soul here.
My prayer is that this will encourage you for your own journey in life. That you will see God for who he is - faithful, loving, solid rock, our everything. Today a good friend said this to me: "the God who makes walking through the valley possible."
Indeed.
One year ago, Kate was spinning. Hearing the sounds of shattering glass and crunching metal and - of her husband screaming.
On year ago, my parents were relaxing at home and receiving a phone call. Hearing Todd panicking that Zozo wasn't breathing... and began racing to the scene of the accident. My mom didn't even stop to put on her shoes.
One year ago, my phone rang and I knew something bad was on the other end. All I heard was hysterical sobbing and had to ask the caller to repeat what was said... my body began to shake from deep inside...
One year ago, my sister Amy was not answering her phone as I tried again and again and again to call... she finally called back after awhile after seeing so many missed calls to hear "WHERE have you been?!" I can still hear the shock in her voice to be greeted in such a way. :)
One year ago, my sister Elisabeth was awakened from a sound sleep when my phone call came through... and didn't get much sleep the rest of the night.
One year ago today, this blog was born... and had 20,000 hits in the first 36 hours of it's life. One year later, it has almost 70,000 hits and has touched dozens of lives (that we know of) - maybe more. When I began this blog, I thought it would just be for family members and close friends to keep posted on Enzo's condition. At that point, we thought he would be fine after awhile. This blog was supposed to simply keep people updated on his long road of recovery we knew was ahead.
Little did we know this blog would turn into a journal of grief, a testimony to God's faithfulness through our valley of the shadow of death. Little did we know an entire community, plus hundreds more people around the globe, would follow this story and rally around our family.
Thank you to everyone reading this. Thank you for following our journey and for allowing us to rant, rave and share our deepest feelings of the soul here.
My prayer is that this will encourage you for your own journey in life. That you will see God for who he is - faithful, loving, solid rock, our everything. Today a good friend said this to me: "the God who makes walking through the valley possible."
Indeed.
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