Ryan set out the following morning for Oklahoma once again. To make things easier for Wyatt, who at the time was 3, Ryan would send videos each morning and evening. Telling us good morning and good evening each time. Telling him to be the man of the house and to take care of his girls. Looking back, I am so thankful for those videos and I think it was one of those little things I needed later on.
The Friday before, Ryan was supposed to call me when he was in the driveway so I could record Wyatt and Claire when he walked through the door. They FLIPPED each time he came home since they had been missing him something fierce. Each time we forgot. And I grumbled like I always do, but vowed next week I would get it on video.
This Friday, though, I got it. Ryan remembered to call me and let me start recording the kids and I am even more thankful for that video. I shared it while he was in the hospital and I may share it again soon. It shows how much life Ryan had in him just 8 hours before he became so sick.
The kids get my phone and I often hear the video playing and it tugs at my heart. I remember sitting in the hospital replaying that video over and over just amazed at where we were. How Ryan was so full of life then, but in a blink of an eye he was so sick. I never asked God why we were going through this. I just trusted him. I trusted that there would be better days ahead. And you know what? There have been.
This week will be emotional for me because all I can think about is everything that led up to the moment and the time we were in the hospital. We got a little date night last night and all we did during dinner was talk about that hospital stay.
Some things are burned into your memory for me it's following the ambulance, the waiting room, seeing the doctors for the first time, seeing Ryan awake for the last time over a painful 10 days, the fear in his eyes, the bathroom where I swore I wouldn't be able to catch my breath, the moment I exclaimed I couldn't raise those babies by myself, the feeling of being lost because my other half wasn't there to tell me it would all be okay, the feeling of helplessness waiting, the moment the Chaplain walked in and prayed with us, the moment I suddenly knew we had a fight ahead of us and the moment when the only thing I knew we needed was prayers.
People still to this day amaze me. Begging and pleading for God to heal Ryan. Getting down on their knees crying out for a miracle to happen. I am overcome with emotions thinking of all those people reaching out to me that morning. Word spread quickly about Ryan. By mid afternoon there were so many people and by that evening I don't think I could count the number of people there or who had dropped by. In retrospect, it's weird to look back and know that all those people were there to offer support for us. To think they would never see Ryan again. To hold our hands, to give us hugs, to bow our heads and pray together. I remember people telling me they would walk into the hospital, get a look from the front desk, and as soon as they heard "Ryan" they pointed toward the waiting room with a twinge of annoyance. Their words not mine. That waiting room was what I needed. My people. Our people. People who kept my mind occupied while what was happening with Ryan was completely out of my control.
There is just so much to say, so much to share, so much to be thankful for. I still thank God for healing Ryan. Even when I see his gnarly little toes and the small limp he has walking across the room I marvel in the fact that he is here. His first second birthday is almost here. And what else would we do but celebrate!
