When I gasped for my life, you brought me back.
As I rode in an ambulance away from my home, you knelt with Ben next to the blue couch and prayed.
When I lay in a coma at the hospital, you drew our four babies to you and told them everything would be all right, while inside you feared I wouldn’t come home.
When I lay covered with tubes and surrounded by machines, you lay next to me, kissed my forehead and told me to come back to you.
Then, not knowing if I’d survive, you made sure your broken ankle was fixed so you could take on a new life as a single dad.
When I woke up, you held my hand. I remember your smile, soft and grateful.
And you brought the kids to me.
When you found out I was going to be okay, you knew I’d need time to recover, so you organized our life, coordinating meals, school, housecleaning, and your job—all while I slept and watched movies.
Slowly as I began to recover, you never rushed me, but fervently protected my rest, always giving with a smile, even though I knew it exhausted you at times.
And now, five months since the cardiac arrest, you continue to take care of me, not just by letting me rest when I need it, but by cheering me on, encouraging me to trust in Christ, and praying for and with me.
My Michael,
You are my best friend, my love, and my life. I can never thank you for how you love me with your whole self, how you make me laugh, and parent our kids with wisdom and joy. I’m glad we continue on this journey together, hand in hand.
Books by Ocieanna
