Dear John,
<p>I am thinking deeply of my brother during this Easter season. To me, being pro-life means much more than protecting the unborn—it's about cherishing and valuing the broken, the injured, the disabled, the elderly, and those society may label as "lesser."</p> <p>When I was nine years old, my baby brother, just 18 months at the time, was tragically run over by a family friend in our driveway. Miraculously, his only injury was a severe brain trauma. Doctors in Fort Worth, TX, said he wouldn't survive. He was placed on life support, and the medical team prepared my family for the worst.</p> <p>But when the machines were turned off, he kept breathing. However, he was left a non-verbal quadrapalegic. Against advice from medical professionals who wanted him in a long-term facility, my parents chose to bring him home.</p> <p>Thus began an incredible 40-plus-year journey of unconditional love and sacrifice.</p> <p>My brother never spoke or walked again. Yet, he communicated deeply through laughter, tears, giggles, protests, and joy. With special saddles made just for him, he even rode horses. My parents took him to Disneyland, Disneyworld, and even on the back of a jet ski. His remarkable story appeared in <em>Guideposts Magazine</em>, and he was featured twice in the radio show, <em>Paul Harvey The Rest of the Story.</em></p> <p>He adored Elvis, found the comedy western <em>Cat Ballou</em> hilarious, loved ice cream, snuggling puppies, and his absolute greatest joy was church. Whenever the Southern Gospel hymn "<em>I'll Fly Away</em>" was sung or played, he nearly jumped from the pew with excitement.</p> <p>Every single day, my dad patiently spent hours feeding him the same meal our family enjoyed, ground in a baby food blender, lovingly by my mother. My parents bathed, diapered, and carefully tended to him every day without complaint or reward. Every night, my dad woke multiple times to gently reposition him, ensuring he never once suffered a bed sore.</p> <p>Nearly four years ago, surrounded by our family, my precious brother passed away peacefully at home. In his final unconscious breath, he gifted us a final giggle—as he truly "flew away," as promised by the Savior he loved.</p> <p>After he passed, I worried deeply about my dad. Rather than feeling relief from the constant care, my dad grieved profoundly. He would say, "I can't believe it has been over 40 years—it just seems so short." His words reminded me vividly of God's love—always patient, never counting the years, always embracing us in our deepest need.</p> <p>Reflecting on this deeply personal experience, I'm reminded that each of us has people who profoundly influence our understanding of our Lord’s love and sacrifice. Perhaps as you've read this, someone special has come to mind—a person who quietly and selflessly showed you what true, unconditional love looks like.</p> <p>If you're comfortable, I'd be honored to hear your story. Your experiences and reflections enrich us all, reminding us why the fight for life and compassion isn't just important—it truly is everything.</p>
With heartfelt gratitude, I wish you a blessed Holy Week and a joyous Easter.
<i>Anna</i>
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