Valentine’s Day Musings
My husband and I have never liked celebrating Hallmark’s Valentine’s Day. It has always felt a bit forced. But then we had an unexpected turn in our life that changed everything.
Approximately 10% of people survive a cardiac arrest outside of a hospital. Those who do survive, often remain in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives. Thirteen years ago around Valentine’s Day I miraculously survived a cardiac arrest…and I am not a vegetable! NOW we have something to celebrate!
February holds a lot for me as you can imagine. Every year, I get to be grateful for a second life. Every February 14, I get to be celebrate a real and beating heart. My husband and I get to acknowledge Valentine’s Day by remembering a life almost lost and the gift of more time together.
The day my heart stopped, I was in the middle of a Trauma Training conference. I was told I had knelt beside a friend and said, “Come Lord Jesus,” beginning a prayer for a brave man who was battling lies he believed about himself and struggling to see his glory. I don’t remember this or anything that happened afterwards, but I was told stories by those who were a witness to it all. I relied on them for piecing it all together.
I am aware of the life-saving factors God had already put in place on that day. I was at a trauma conference (ha)! Resurrection Hospital with some of the top cardiac arrest protocol in the country was around the corner from the conference. There “happened to be” someone in my group who was able to perform CPR to keep the blood flowing to my brain until the ambulance showed up. Immediate prayer was needed and came from all across the world.
Recovery was slow, the doctors could not figure out what happened (I had no heart issues), and I lost a lot of left brain capacity. (Something we laugh about because I did NOT need to lose MORE of my capacity to organize and calculate)
But, there is something powerful and beautiful in the gift of loss. It has not been a straight line to healing. But, supernatural things have happened over these last 13 years. I am more in tune with my body, with my clients, with my husband. I grieve and tear up more and I laugh much more spontaneously and joyfully. I say “no” more often and yes to the things I am passionate about. I speak more and I speak less. I listen to the Holy Spirit and boy do I have some doozy- dreams full of meaning and insight. I guess I can thank the increased right brain activity for that one. I got to see one daughter graduate from nursing school, and help another with her dream of living abroad. Every extra day I have of life is now a gift. (Well, MOST days!)
As with swimming in the ocean last week, there have been places along this healing journey where I have run aground and had to slow down. There have been long stretches of having to walk over uneven sand bars and sink into silty areas. But when I was able, I lowered my body into the ocean and placed arm over arm and kept moving forward, gliding, enjoying the fact that I have a beautiful heart that beats and stays with me across the water.
The Cabin is this kind of a story. It is full of unexpected friendships, shocking loss, grief, and joy that illustrates the satisfaction in a long swim in unknown waters. If you need a book about grief and loss that is not preachy, but filled with hope and resilience, this is the one for you. As always, for adults and children! Proceeds will go to Peace Promise