I were finally able to sleep together in the same bed,
we'd find ourselves struggling to fall asleep.
I was bandaged from head to toe and with all sorts of contraptions to bend,
twist, and stretch my skin and joints.
On top of the terribly uncomfortable physical pain, together we
would mull over the accident in our minds.
We'd cry, and then we'd soothe each other.
Those nights were some of the hardest nights of my life,
but also some of the most sacred and beautiful nights too.
Reliving and retelling those horrible moments with
each other was like light reaching the deepest parts of our souls.
Those long nights were our therapy
and were the reason we could forgive, heal, and move on.
When our last I love yous were said in the dark early morning,
Christian would get his phone, and we'd listen to some relaxation sounds
to help us doze off. I usually liked hearing the rain and thunder mix,
while Christian loved listening to a boat swaying and swishing on the water.
Sometimes we both enjoyed listening to the buzz of the city
or the sounds of an eerie windstorm.
(But we both agreed we hated the sound of the fireplace crackle).
A few nights ago, we fell asleep to those familiar sounds again.
It made us deeply reflect on those hard nights.
I never believed I would be happy again.
I really, truly didn't.
I know happiness again.
Now we have different struggles that keep us up at night
(and still make me cry), but we have each other and our faith,
and I know we can get over anything.
(photos taken by Cheryl Evans, AZ Republic 2009)
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