Recently my family has been going through some rough times. My family was in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade and my dad fell off the float while it was moving. He fell backwards and hit his head. He was rushed to the emergency room. My family arrived at the hospital moments later to learn that my dad was suffering from two brain contusions, broken ribs, and a broken nose. The doctor at the hospital told us that my dad had a fifty percent chance of survival, but that if my dad did survive it was likely for him to be angry and combative. I was devastated. My dad has always had a smile to share or a joke to tell and I could not imagine never seeing his smile again. All we could do was wait and in my family’s case, pray. For about the first twelve days my dad was in a medically induced coma in the intensive care unit. A couple of days later our prayers began being answered when my dad started opening his eyes and raising his eyebrows when we communicated with him. I never thought that the raise of two eyebrows could bring me so much joy. A couple of days after my dad raised his eyebrows he was moved into a step-down unit. While there, something miraculous occurred. I walked into the room and my dad stretched out his arms in order to give me a hug. With tears forming in my eyes I embraced him. At this moment miracles began to unfold.
Within the next few days my family was told that my dad would be moved to a rehabilitation hospital. I rode in the ambulance with my dad on the way to the hospital in order to keep him safe. The first day my dad arrived at the hospital, he had not made any significant changes, but I kept the faith and continued to pray, knowing that God had helped my dad and family in so many ways already. My prayers were continuously answered.
The day after my dad had been brought to the rehabilitation hospital, significant changes occurred. My dad would smile and wave when visitors entered his room and his eyes lit up when my younger brother and sister walked in the room. After about 5 days in the rehabilitation hospital, my dad began to verbally communicate. Subtle improvements or miracles as I call them occurred each day. On April 15, 2009, the biggest miracle of all occurred: my dad arrived home! God had, once again, answered our prayers. While my dad has not fully recovered, the doctors are hopeful that he will return to himself in no time. Through this experience of sadness, anger, and joy I have come to believe in miracles.
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