Some memories...

Falling to my knees at work after getting that phone call, not being able to breathe and saying "no" over and over again.

Being stuck in that little room at the hospital waiting to hear if my son was alive, brain dead, paralyzed or any combination of the three.

Returning to my home to gather some things for the hospital in Springfield; picking out some movies and books for him, hoping I would get the chance to share them with him, looking at every single item in my home that is connected in some way to Tru and wondering how I could possibly ever step foot in here again if I lost him.

Making that drive to the hospital in Springfield, still in shock, wondering what kind of news we would get when we arrived, knowing I couldn't survive coming home without him.

Seeing my little boy in so much pain, jerking himself awake from the nightmares, only to scream in pain from the sudden movement. Hearing him shout out, "I huuuuuurrrrrtttt!" and not being able to help him.

Having to tell him I could only hold his hand when he would ask repeatedly for me to "hold my whole body, Mommy".

Worrying for days when the doctor said, "surgery could be catastrophic" if his blood levels didn't increase; that word, "catastrophic", still echos in my mind.

Seeing the fear in his eyes every time we had to move him because he was afraid of the pain; feeling the fear in my heart every time I had to move him, afraid I was going to injure him or cause him pain. He would say, "be very careful, Mommy"

Wondering if he would really be able to move his legs when he finally got a chance to walk, or remember all the things he knew before the accident, or if he would ever heal completely.

I could go on and on, but if you've read this far already, I'm sure you get the point.