Sunday, June 10, 2007

Dear Family and Friends,

I came home again on Saturday to take a break and will return to Riverside Monday morning. Everett and Sarah are in Riverside and Keith and Kim visited yesterday. I have talked to Everett a couple times today and things are looking good. After four days of basically no response, he has responded with yes and no shakes of his head to questions Sarah has asked. He even managed to pull out an IV . The nurses and doctors say all this is good because his movements are purposeful. The doctor also told Everett and Sarah today that she doesn't believe Kevin should have any character or behavioral changes and that he is most definitely ready to be moved to a rehab facility. We have been trying to contact both his social worker and case worker since yesterday but have not heard back from them. We would like to get him moved asap. The whole family is in one accord that we do not wish for him to be sent to Bakersfield even though they have the Number One rated neurological rehab facility in California. It is just too far away! We understand that Casa Colina in Pomona is also excellent and are praying God will provide an opening for him there. The doctor says it is very important for the family to have as much interaction with him as possible to help facilitate his recovery.

If you will indulge me, I thought I might share part of my personal journey through this difficult time. Perhaps it will be cathartic for me and perhaps encourage some of you.

I was unable to sleep the third night of Kevin's accident and my heart was breaking as I didn't know whether my son was going to make it through another night. My mind wandered back to many moments of Kevin as he was growing up. The one word that kept popping up was "indestructible". My Kevin is indestructible. He was hardly afraid of anything. When he was about two years old he loved for me to tuck a diaper in the back of his shirt as a cape and he would fly around the room. One day I turned to find him at the top of the stairway landing at my mother's house flying hands first down the stairs. As I screamed running toward him I cried, "Kevin, what are you doing! Don't ever do that again!", he looked up at me unharmed and protested, "but mom, Spidey (Spiderman) do it." My Kevin is undestructible.

When Kevin was about four years old he about scared his dear Aunt Kitty to death one afternoon. She was babysitting both boys and she and Kevin were waiting outside the house of Keith's piano teacher when she turned to find Kevin atop a fence just walking casually along it. She screamed running toward him hoping to catch him before he fell. He just couldn't understandwhat all the fuss was about. That's my indestructible boy.

When Kevin was young and would find his way out of our sight we always said to look up first because we were sure we would find him on top of something. Yes, our son is undestructible.

Kevin was always an avid lover of airplanes. The floor was always covered in Leggo or paper airplanes. As he grew so did the airplanes, from paper to plastic model kits to radio control airplanes, some of which he designed and built himself. He always dreamed of being up in the sky flying a real airplane. When he was fifteen he was graciously given the opportunity to take flying instructions. I never saw him so excited as I did the moment he found out he was really going to fly. Needless to say, mom was a bit apprehensive. But there he was, my fifteen-year-old son, up in the sky. I remember vividly the day he was to solo with "touch and go" takeoffs and landings. My stomach was in my throat as I watched him in this tiny plane up there all alone. But, my Kevin is indestructible.

As tears rolled down my checks many other special moments came to mind, especially something I always told the boys when they were old enough to go somewhere out of mom's sight or supervision. As they would head out the door I would point up to the sky and say, "Just remember whose son you are." That night as I cried out to God about the pain I was going through watching my son suffer so, God gently spoke to me and said He understood exactly what I felt as He too had watched His son suffer horribly, and that no matter what happened He would be right there to hold me up. As I cried even more, I realized once again that Kevin was not my son, but that he was a son of God, and if God chose to take him home everything would be alright because Kevin is indestructible and would be forever with the Lord he loves.

I love to ride roller coasters but these five weeks is one roller coaster ride I would like to get off of. I have never been one to really ask God why things happen but "why" has peaked through my thoughts a time or two. As I was discussing this with a dear friend she simply told me, "becauseGod loves you". Now that may seem a strange thing to some, but I understand perfectly as my God does everything perfectly. Does that mean everything will turn out the way I would like it to? Of course not. But I am confident of the love my LORD has for me and that He will never leave me or forsake me. Hebrews 4:14-16 says, "Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unableto sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw nearto the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." I know God never does anything haphazardly and He has a purpose in all of this. A purpose that will bring Him the glory. Of that I am sure. What that will be I do not know.

As I was reminded in today's message at church, I Peter 4:12 and 13 says, "Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed." I can't wait to see His glory revealed in this trial.

My love to all of you. You have blessed us all beyond measure.
Tami Hollar