I really don’t know how to tell everyone how much I appreciate the support you are giving Ryan (and my family). I really don’t. Just as it is impossible for me to fully convey the challenges faced each day, likewise it is impossible to let you know just how much I sincerely appreciate your loyalty.
With you, Ryan is in the best possible position, given the depth of his injury. I know I have said that before, but it bears repeating. There is clearly no way he could have achieved the many goals for him. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.I think about you all the time. Every time I give him a pill you bought. Every time I eat a meal you cooked. Every time I use the vast assortment of therapy equipment delivered to my front door. Every time I examine him with the medical supplies and equipment purchased. When I sterilize his equipment. Launder his clothes. Pour his juice. Splint his hands. Lay him in cozy bed. Put him in his more comfortable wheelchair. I even think of you when I smear cream on his butt. You are ALWAYS in my thoughts. It really is much of what I cling to each day to see me through.
Your comments on this website inspire me. You believe in Ryan. You believe in me. So you know, many times you believe FOR me. This in one in hundreds of ways you help. I somehow believe I could endure in any circumstance, but having you there makes it so much easier. Did I tell you how much I appreciate it? Thank you!
Sometimes I close my eyes and wish this damned world would just go away. A few minutes of some mother-effing peace is all I’m asking. A brief period where I can step outside the pain… pain that is both physical and emotional. May I just be granted the luxury of not thinking? Or better yet, thinking about fun things … like vacations, baseball games, and a hopeful future? Do my dreams really need to be this tormented? Hey, how about some real sleep for a change, huh? Oh, and how about waking up without the reality of this life slapping me like I’m its bitch?
And yet, you lift me up through this constant anguish. I cling to the knowledge that you have my back.
I don’t know what I’d do without you.