Another Young Father Falls

Because of the encouragement of my blog readers, I have decided to continue on with "my story." If you are new to this blog, you may want to begin with the June 5 post and read to this post. Remember that I am writing in the context of "what God has brought me through."

Cycling for the past six years has been one of my greatest sources of therapy (and exercise). There is something about getting on a bike, going 18-20 mph, and riding 20-25 miles that allows me to recalibrate my life. Several years ago I began training for a 180 mile ride which benefits the MS Society. The ride is from Houston to Austin. A group of us from church decided to train together, so on a pleasant January day we met at Katy High School to begin our 36 mile training ride. The five of us made it about 18 miles with no problems and decided to stop at a country store to unload and refuel.

We continued on our ride and started going up a small hill, with two of us in the front going faster than the three others. One of the guys was ahead of me when I heard someone yell, "Ken's down." I yelled at the person ahead of me and we both sprinted back to the group.

At first I thought that Ken (in his early thirties) was having an epileptic seizure. I quickly realized he was having a heart attack. Immediately, I started CPR and mouth to mouth resuscitation, to no avail. 911 was called and emergency personnel began arriving. Professionals took over and continued CPR and began electrical shock with the paddles. As they were working to save his life, Ken was put into the ambulance and taken to a hospital a few miles from where we started. When we got to the hospital, Ken's wife, Amy, and several others from church were starting to arrive. Amy was beside herself. The doctors did everything they could, but Ken's heart never started beating. He had a massive heart attack, due to a congenital defect that was never detected.

Folks from the church gathered around Amy. It was one of the most moving moments I have ever experienced. As we gathered for prayer, Pastor Jerry, and others began praying. Then Amy began to pray. I will never forget her prayer. "Dear Father, This morning as we worshiped I was praising you for all of the wonderful gifts you have given to me and my family. Lord, even though my husband is gone, I still praise you!" (Amy has recently remarried to a wonderful Christian man).

What went through my mind was that Amy was in a situation similar to my birth mother's. Her husband dies and leaves two small children behind. The difference was that Amy had a community of support, and a strong faith that would sustain her during the most difficult time of her life.

The next two weeks, I kept having a recurring dream of the tragedy. Each time I would wake myself up, the last thing I would see would be Ken's face, white as a sheet, with his eyes rolled back. The only thing I would remember about the dream was Ken's face when I woke up.

Then I had the nightmare of my life. It was so powerful, the dream changed the perception of my childhood, and my life.