90 Minutes in Heaven_ A True Story of Death & Life - Don Piper [37]
He never said a word.
He didn’t need to. That simple gesture was enough. I felt so loved by my son.
After a minute or so, Chris would go into his room, get out of his school clothes, change into his play clothes, and then go outside and play. That’s the way he greeted me almost every day.
I know it was hard on him—really hard on him—and he expressed his grief in the only way he knew how.
Just six months after the accident, I was able to participate in a very special moment for Nicole.
Southern Baptists have mission organizations for young people. The most well-known are the Royal Ambassadors for boys and Girls in Action (GAs) and Acteens for girls. As soon as she was old enough, Nicole participated in GAs and Acteens. She fulfilled all the requirements, such as Scripture memorization, various service projects, and mission trips. When she was fourteen, she learned she would be awarded the honor of Queen with Scepter at a coronation ceremony at South Park Baptist Church in June 1989.
This award is the pinnacle of Acteen participation and is presented during a church ceremony. Her receiving the award was a tribute to her own utter determination. During the time she threw herself into those activities, she wasn’t able to live at home. Our friends Suzan and Stan Mauldin had opened their home to her, and she lived with them. Nicole received no emotional or physical support from me, because I was barely surviving in the hospital. She received little support from her mother, because Eva’s
Don attends Nicole’s Girls in Action coronation.
life consisted of leaving school every afternoon and rushing to the hospital, where she stayed with me until she went home to bed.
The challenges made us all the more proud of Nicole.
One of the traditions associated with the coronation is that fathers escort their daughters down the aisle. Brothers, if the girls have any, follow and carry the crown and scepter.
Because of the timing of South Park’s annual coronation, there was great doubt about my being able to be present, much less escort her down the aisle.
I’m grateful that my doctors discharged me from the hospital in time to be present for the coronation. I really wanted to be there. This wasn’t her wedding, but it was the biggest thing so far in her young life, and I wanted to share the moment with her.
I was in a wheelchair, and Nicole held my arm as I rolled down the aisle. Chris and Joe walked behind us, carrying her crown and scepter on pillows. They also helped roll my chair down the aisle. I wore a suit coat and tie (my first time since the accident) along with my warm-ups split down the sides to allow for my Ilizarov.
Not only was Nicole absolutely elated that her daddy could be present for her extremely important occasion, she was thrilled that her father could “walk” her down the aisle.
Tears filled my eyes as I maneuvered down the aisle. I heard others sniffling. But I also knew that we wept tears of joy over this wonderful moment in Nicole’s life.
The doctors sent me home initially, I believe, because they thought I’d recover faster in an environment with family around me. It may also have cost a lot less for me to be home. I’m not sure, but I was glad to be out of the hospital. Insurance didn’t pay for any of my treatment. The bill was covered at first by workmen’s compensation, and ultimately the State of Texas, because a federal court found them at fault.
Still, being in my own home wasn’t much easier for me or my family, especially Eva. Every day someone had to give me shots. I had to have physical therapy treatments—all done to me and for me at home. Our living room looked like a hospital room. I did feel better being out of that sterile environment. Just being around familiar things lifted my spirit. I enjoyed being able to look out the window at my neighborhood or having people drop in to see me who didn’t wear