Three hundred and nine agonizing days.
That’s how long you weren’t home. 309 days.
That’s how long you battled and fought to overcome a tragedy that struck your world. 309 days.
That’s how long your husband and family traveled to see you. 309 days.
That’s how patient everyone had to be, including you. 309 days.
It’s not over, the battle has just begun. Except now it begins at home.
You made it home.
I’m so thankful that you are home. Surrounded by family with your daughter in your arms you finally made it home.
Shortly after you were hospitalized one of your sweet friends (another Kim) made ribbons for you. These ribbons were passed around the hospital, businesses, friends, family and even complete strangers that heard about your story. It was a simple pink ribbon with one word on it “believe” – this was your word, you’ve carried it through all the difficult times in your life because believing gave you strength and comfort. For a short while, we didn’t have you to guide us, so we sought refuge in your word and made it our own.
I wore my ribbon everyday, as did everyone else. I vowed that everyday I’d wear that ribbon, until you got home. I vowed that if you could fight as hard as you were in that hospital and in rehab that I could support your fight and show it to the world by wearing my ribbon. Often times I was asked, if someone I knew had breast cancer, or what the ribbon was for and I’d try to respond without crying. My usual response was “My person was in a terrible accident in early February and remains in the hospital, she is fighting everyday and getting stronger and so is her baby girl. I know that she will be okay but this is just a friendly reminder that when I feel sad or lonely, I just have to believe. In her.”
It wasn’t enough. Sometimes it just didn’t bring me comfort. So I wore a believe charm on my wrist (given to me by your sweet sister in law), I found believe books, pictures, decorations, signs, computer backdrops, everything I could to get me through. During that time I also put a pink ribbon on my tree out front of my house, and I made a pink wreath for you. I stated to anyone that asked that they would remain up until you came home.
Well you finally came home! I couldn’t have been more excited for you to be home, to have your own shower and bed, to watch your little girl play on the floor with her toys, to watch tv on your sofa, read your books, play your ipad, snuggle your sweet pup and precious kitten…to get back to normal.
I was hesitant and apprehensively optimistic that you’d actually leave the day everyone said you would (only because I know how discharge works at a hospital and something ALWAYS causes a delay)…but you did, you left that day. I ran outside and did my happy dance and cut down the ribbon and took down the wreath. You were home.
The ribbon was dingy and weathered, but like you it made it through the storm! (These are a little blurry because I had to cut and shoot at the same time…but you get the idea!
Welcome home sweet friend. I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas Present!