For the first time in two weeks, life is beginning to look normal again.

Just over two weeks ago, my son nearly lost his life in a car accident.  He survived, but just barely.

A local newspaper posted a picture of our van here:.

After almost two weeks in the Intensive Care Unit, he is now in a rehabilitation center here in Aurora, Colorado.  He is recovering.  He has a long way to go, but he is recovering.

At the time of the accident, my family and I were in Athens, Greece.  I had moved everyone there so that I could intensively study the Greek language.

It is every parent’s nightmare to receive the phone call we received while living on the other side of the world.  I hope I never have to go through that again.

On the flight home from Greece, one of my girls watched the movie Collateral Beauty.  When she finished, she leaned across her sisters and whispered, “Dad.  Watch Collateral Beauty.”

We still had 6, or so, hours in the air.  So, I listened to my daughter.  I watched the movie.

I don’t want to give too much away.  But, there is a pivotal scene in the movie.  One of the main characters is in the hospital waiting as a loved one dies.  A stranger asks, “Are you losing someone?”  After receiving a tearful affirmative, the stranger says, “As you go through this, don’t forget to notice the collateral beauty around you.”

My girls and I were in the air.  We were on the way to Denver to be with my wife and son.  (My wife had flown out of Athens immediately.  My girls and I had stayed behind to close down our life overseas.)   At this point, we did not know if my son would survive.   The movie hit home.

As events began to unfold, I tried to notice the collateral beauty. around me.  It didn’t take much effort.  I realized we were surrounded by it.

So, this is my way of saying thanks.  Thanks to all of you who surrounded my family with collateral beauty.

There is no way I will remember everyone, but I am going to begin anyway and update as I remember.

Thank you, Amanda, for turning around on Interstate 70 to save my son’s life.  I hope I get to meet you someday.

To all of my students, who have not complained at all, thank you.  I have canceled classes and have provided little information.  You have responded with overwhelming encouragement for my family.  Thank you.

Thank you, Χάρης for all of the help.  Thank you for the taxis to the airport.  Thank you for understanding.  I am sorry we had to leave without saying goodbye.  Σας ευχαριστώ πολύ.

To the Greek woman at the British Airways counter who realized that, because I booked our flights at the last minute, my girls and I were would not be able to sit together, thank you.  I can only guess that it was you who moved us to business class.

To the British Airways flight attendant who treated my girls as though they were his granddaughters, thank you.  I wish I had written your name down.

To British Airways, thank you.  I have flown over the Atlantic many times on many carriers.  You have figured it out.  To borrow from your own colloquialisms, “Good on you.  Very well done.”  I will fly with you as often as I can from this point forward.

To the TSA agents in Dallas, thank you.  Thank you for reminding me to be a better, kinder person.  Thank you for reminding me not to treat people the way you treat people.  You guys have a tough job, I am sure, but gee whiz, guys.  Show a little humanity.  People are not trying to personally offend you.  They are just trying to get to their destinations.

Thank you to the medical staff of The Medical Center of Aurora for keeping my son alive.  You guys are amazing.

To Emily, who started a Go Fund Me page for my family, thank you.  I wouldn’t have thought of that.  I have been rather foggy (mentally) since my Jackson wrecked.

To all of you who have donated to the Go Fund Me account, thank you.  And, good grief.  Your generosity is blowing me away.  Once again, my wife and I feel like George Bailey in the final scene of “It’s a Wonderful Life”.  This scene:


To those who were at the hospital before my family and I could arrive, thank you.   Thank you, Leticia, Sienna, Thomas, Heather, Mom and my sister, Dawn.  Because you were there, we could travel with a little less fear and a little more hope.

To all of you who let my family know on Facebook that you were praying for my son, thank you.

To the Classical Conversations communities in the Denver area that have reached out to us in many ways, thank you.  Thank you, Charlene.  Thank you, Richelle.  Thank you, Cindy.   I hope to meet you all.  Life is starting to become a little more normal these days, so perhaps that can happen.  It looks like we will be here in Colorado until the end of May at least.

Thank you, Ashley, Richelle, Charlene (and those I am forgetting) for offering your homes to us.  Offering your home to six people takes courage.  That means a lot to me.

Thank you, Tiffany and Leticia, for the delicious food.  What a relief it was not to have to think about food for a day.

Thank you, Vicky, Larry, and Noelle, for spending ridiculous amounts of money to ship things to Colorado just to keep my girls happy.

Thank you, Maresa, for flying out to spend time with Jackson in ICU so that Gretchen and I could rest for a bit.

Thank you, Franklin, and thank you McCreary’s for throwing a party for Jackson.  He was surprised (and very happy) when he found out his hometown was partying in his honor.

Thank you, Robbie, for setting that party up.  Thank you also for the untold hours you have spent getting the word out for us.  I had no time and energy for that.  As usual, you rock at that kind of stuff.  Huge help to us.

This is only the beginning.  There are so many who have helped in so many ways.  I will continue updating.  Right now, though, I am off to the rehabilitation center to spend some time with Jackson.