Just Another Miracle

We fail to notice miracles a lot because they happen every day and, for the most part, seem very unspectacular. Gerard van der Leun has a pretty healthy attitude toward the miracle of his “rebirthday”:

The light went in one instant as the light goes out when you flip the switch to “off.” The light returned in the very next instant as if someone slowly turned up a dimmer switch in a small room. In one moment I was standing on my front porch looking at children running about in the playground across the street. The very next moment I was looking up from my bed at the sound-muffled ceiling of the ICU in Harbor View Hospital in Seattle. A voice like footsteps coming closer down a long hallway was repeating and repeating, “You are in Harbor View. You’ve had a heart attack. It’s daytime….” Thus, after being held in a coma for 13 days, I was returned to life. Thus, tick became tock. 

Between those two moments I have no information to report since, to my mind and memory, there are no moments between those two. They are found side by side in my mind; an enjambment bracketing a caesura. The thirteen days between them have no duration at all. In a sense the only clue they provide in their utter nonexistence would be one to the true dimensions of eternity. 

Some people seem to think that, with no light to report, my cut-rate resurrection is something rather modest, a common outcome of our enlightened, medically advanced age available to all. They express thanks that the 911 medical crew got to me as fast as it did and knew how to, in effect, jump start my heart. To those who don’t get a comic book resurrection mine seems only a mundane report on a modern ability. They don’t find it miraculous. But that is only because they are deaf, dumb, and blind to the miraculous. I am not. It was my miracle. And a miracle it was.

(via you know)

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