Woooooooooot!!! We have reached the six month milestone!! Six whole months, 180 days and however many minutes of recovery tick and tocked off the clock! Yet February 19, will forever be linked with the day the Ducati went down..... the day I nearly lost my husband. The day I screamed like a banshee over Kevin's body where he landed crumpled and unresponsive in the middle of Houston's 610/59 interchange. At that moment time froze solid and I couldn't see even 6 seconds into the future.
Wow! Really? Six months already!!? Six months is just a measure of time, the distance from point A to point where we want to B. At day one, six months is nothing more than passing hour by hour until day two. At day five, each consecutive day in the hospital feels like a prison sentence without having committed a crime. At day 180, time seems to have flown by leaving little trace of the days in between. But there were days: long days, difficult days, and fearful days. But mostly there were days of gratitude.
It's rare to get a second chance at life. The generous gift is not one to be taken lightly. We had to let go of anger and frustration that there is no one to hold accountable for the hit and run. We learned to put our stock in the slow process of healing both physically and emotionally without becoming bitter. We slowed down, readjusted, and strengthened the bond that cemented him and me as WE.
We are forever grateful to the February 19 angels on the highway, the Ben Taub Trauma Center staff, and all our friends and family who have cheered us on for the past six months. We love you!
LOVE & HEALING