It was because, after ten years of silence, the person who had walked away from us finally came back expecting to be welcomed as if he had only been gone for a weekend.
And my son was no longer the frightened eight-year-old boy he had left behind.
His name is Julian.
Ten years ago, a car accident changed almost everything about our lives.
Julian suffered a serious spinal injury. I still remember sitting beside his hospital bed while a doctor explained that the damage was severe enough that we needed to prepare ourselves for the possibility that he might never walk independently again.
There was hope, but it was small.
With years of rehabilitation, careful treatment, and a great deal of work, he might regain some movement.
Might.
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