I pray for strength and for acceptance.
I was not surprised when I got the call. I prepared myself for this years ago, when we both knew that this was surely where your destructive lifestyle would lead.
Had this happened a few years ago, I would have said it is karma. But you have been doing so good lately. You have held a steady job. You have been there for our daughter. You have been a good brother and you have been a good neighbor. I really thought you were getting your life together. So why did it happen now?
Your body was found in the ravine. Your wallet is gone. Your keys are gone. There are so many rumors. We are left with so many questions. Was this an innocent mistake? Did you just go for a walk and slip? Did you make a bad choice? Did somebody do this to you? Did you make them mad, or were you a randomly chosen victim?
No matter what the reason, We are sad to hear what has happened. But you lived. We are thankful for that. I wish that we could come see you. But no. Nobody under 12 years old is allowed in ICU. I will give you a few more days to heal before coming without our daughter.
They say you are in pretty bad shape. You have been sedated for over a week. The few times that they let you wake up, you woke up fighting. Unable to calm down. Unable to understand what is going on. So they put you back to sleep. You have another surgery scheduled for this week.
I worry about what the future will bring for the three of us. I hope you know how much I care. I hope that you will understand why I cannot invite you to stay with us while you recover. I wish you well. But most of all I pray for strength.
I pray that our daughter will have the strength to accept whatever the ultimate outcome is of your accident. I am sure that her strong faith will see her through this. But it will be hard on her. She has gotten used to seeing you almost every weekend.
I pray that I will have the strength, knowledge, and ambition to do what is right. I am not sure yet what that means. I want to help you in any way that I can. But I am limited by my own physical abilities and by the need to make sure that our daughter’s well being is put first.
Even more, I pray for you. I pray that you will have the strength to get through this and to come out a better person. I pray that you are not given more pain than you can handle. That you do not become too discouraged. And if you will not make it through this, I pray that you can go peacefully.
I hope that you know how much we care about you.
___ Update #1 ___
They say that you made it through the surgery. When you woke up, you could move your toes. So that’s good. But they will not know the extent of your injuries until they take you off of the respirator. For now, they are keeping you sedated. Maybe next week you will be able to talk.
Our birthdays are coming up. Mine in 10 days, yours in 14. Will you be awake? What shall we do to celebrate?
___ Update #2 ___
The guy who did this to you confessed, but I am sad to report that he escaped arrest.
They released you from the hospital on my birthday. You will get to spend yours at home!
___ Update #3 ___ (for anyone who is following this post)
This last year has been hard on all of us. Physically, emotionally, and financially. You lost your job and we almost lost you so many times.
I am proud of your accomplishments. I know it is depressing to live with a trache the rest of your life. But you are living. You are here to see our daughter grow up and get awards in school. You are here to watch how excited your dog gets every time you go home.
I wish you luck getting on disability and finding a part-time job that will let you do what you can. Maybe with some steady income, you can move closer to us and be a bigger part of your daughter’s life.