I am up early this morning - REALLY early – and I thought I would get some work done. I started some research for the articles I am writing today, and then decided to take a break to update the website information. We are still transitioning to the new format, and I wanted to see how things were going. As I flipped through pages, I wanted to find a specific piece of information, so I switched to Google, and searched my name.
I never knew. I never grasped the footprint that this accident, and our family journey, has created on the Internet.
I began to flip through some of the links that were present; some of the links and articles I was aware of and some of them I never knew that they existed. I clicked on a slide show link for the benefit that was held for Frank in Savage, and I was hit with that feeling again, the one where it takes my breath away, and I am stunned by the feelings that those picture evoke in me.
Heartbreak for the fear and pain of those days.
Joy for the friends and smiling faces I saw in the pictures.
Humbled by the reminders of all that our friends, supporters and Frank’s team have done for us.
I can’t describe the feelings that this moment has brought forward. I am a bit unsettled, and I think part of that is the ongoing recovery process of Frank’s injury. Yesterday we were at a presentation for caregivers of individuals with TBI’s, and we talked at length about how this is such a long process, and at times, it feels as if there is no end in sight.
And truly, for individuals with brain injuries, there really isn’t a true “end.”
Brain injuries are often invisible, and the recovery time can be years. For both the person recovering, and for the family, it feels like an eternity.
I am brought back to my knees today in awe of the greatness of people, and of the support we have received. I hope that we can bring some of that support back to others – it is our goal, it is our plan, it is our life.