The Best Birthday Gift

On the a.m. of May 2nd, 2007, Craig went to the local ER for treatment of a red, swollen, achy left calf. Seems we were wrong in our hopes docs would diagnose a tendon tear or muscle sprain...but then, hope is rather like that, is it not? That determination in the foreground to believe the best while the whispers of fear and doubt lurk in the back? In any case, we knew, after a few days of pain refusing to abate, something was wrong. We never imagined - couldn't have imagined - that a 7-inch blood clot in Craig's left calf had burst, firing an approximate 4-inch section through his heart to diffuse a massive pulmonary embolism through both lungs.

By all medical accounts, Craig could have died.

Should...have died.

Yet, still he walks amongst us.

On the a.m. of May 3rd, 2007, I awoke to greet my 31st birthday with arms and legs akimbo squeezed onto a small recliner in a hospital room on the cardiovascular floor of Penrose hospital. The day shift nurse had entered the room to check Craig's vitals, adjust the IV tube administering monstrous doses of heparin, and confirm that Craig hadn't moved throughout the night...not even an inch...for, at this point, we could only attempt to keep him stabilized lest the remaining 3-inch clot should detach, threatening death via another embolism or, worse, a fatal brain anneurism.

And so began my 31st year of life - a chronicle of time marked by 11 months of 3 hospitalizations for Craig, including one to remove a tumor "inadvertently" discovered during his second blood clotting episode (but let me point out: faith tells me there is no such phenomenon as coincidence...so nothing is "inadvertent" with God). When we share the story of that year - of labs and biopsies, hospitals and doctors; of fatigue and spiritual famine, angst and opposition; of one lost baby and one conceived - I hear one common refrain: "Boy, what a  birthday that was."

And here is how I reply:
Yes, it was. I will recall with great pleasure that birthday, particularly, because that birthday, I received the best gift ever - my husband's life. For, although most express the sentiment to acknowledge the negative of the story (and understandably so), I recognize the positive.

On May 2nd, I drove to the hospital begging God for just one plea: Don't make me a 30-yr old widow with two small children for I cannot be without my husband. 

On May 3rd, I awoke in that hospital thanking God for just one gift: Craig was alive.

Birthdays changed for me after that. Before, they would come and go with my little attention spared, save for the "biggies" like 21 and 30. Now, I celebrate every year because I now am certain - rather than vaguely supposing the possibility - that not even youth spares death. Now, I mark each May 3rd with a zest for another 365 days spent with the love of my life, our children, and the friends and family who make every day of those 365 worth remembering.

Now, every May 3rd, I recall that May 3rd. 

And I thank God for the one gift that gives again and again just by walking the earth...

Craig.