A different kind of anniversary

Today marks 32 years since our families little world changed. 32 years ago, in the wee hours of Easter morning, my dad had a horrendous auto accident. It took a team of rescue workers almost an hour to remove him from the twisted wreckage, and upon arriving at the hospital most of the attending doctors assumed he would be "a vegetable" at best, dead within hours at worst. It was the most difficult Easter of my life.

Now, all these years later, I look at my dad playing with his grandchildren and I thank a gracious God who knew better than those doctors! And I marvel at the courageous, sacrificing love of my mother, who refused to give up on dad, refused to write him off when he was comatose for months, instead talking to him every day as she exercise his limbs and invented ways to stimulate his brain and tried to bring him back to us, fighting doctors (but not nurses) to see dad get the best care that could be provided. And all the while, taking care of her children.

Our family motto quickly became "We Believe in Miracles", as we children saw a father who we grieved as dead to us slowly regain life - a pale reflection, in our young minds, of the original Easter miracle. And as time went on, new miracles were added as children were born and unsurmountable obstacles overcome. So now, as I prepare for Holy Week (and the biggest miracle of all!), I remember all the miracles in my life!