Read Online Taylor's Gift by Tara Storch - Free Book Online

here?” I asked.
    â€œGreg got a call about the accident. When we heard the name we knew it was you. I figured you didn’t have anybody here, so I came to get your kids.”
    I burst into fresh tears. I didn’t know what to say. It was too much for me, watching this angel from God just swoop in and sweep up my kids. I introduced her to Ryan and Peyton, and I was even more stunned that they were willing to go with her. To me it was just proof of how badly they wanted to escape the nightmare playing out at the hospital.
    As I walked the three of them to the elevator, I began crying again. The sobs took every breath I had, and suddenly I began to sway, everything went dark, and then my knees buckled and I fell to the floor.
    â€œOh, honey,” Kristin said, rushing toward me. She put her arms around me and tried to console me.
    Sobbing, I looked up at her and said what so far I’d only been thinking. “We’re gonna lose her.”
    Todd
    After the kids left, Tara and I sat together in a loveseat in the empty lobby and waited for the neurosurgeon to come speak to us. Silently, I prayed for Taylor. C’mon, God, you’ve got to heal her , I begged. Tara was freezing. The staff brought her hot blankets, but even when she was wrapped in their heat, she couldn’t stop shaking. We sat there for what seemed like hours, praying and waiting for news. Finally, the surgeon came out and asked us to join her in a small conference room.
    â€œTaylor has a severe brain injury with a lot of swelling,” Dr. Pemblee * began. “We operated, trying to do everything we could, but—”
    â€œOh, God, have we lost our daughter?” Tara said, not wanting her to finish her sentence.
    I was on the edge of my seat. My chest burned like an invisible vise was squeezing it, preventing me from breathing.
    â€œIn the twenty-two years I’ve done this surgery, I’ve never seen anyone survive it,” Dr. Pemblee said. “You need to prepare yourselves for that. That’s the reality.”
    There was a long pause as I tried to make sense of her words. Taylor was alive? But, for how long?
    Tara grabbed the edge of her seat as if to hold herself back, and then she suddenly started screaming. “Get out! Get out! I need you to leave—right now!”
    â€œTara, wait!” I said, grabbing her wrist.
    â€œShe’s not going to die! She’s not!” Tara screamed. Dr. Pemblee looked down, busying herself with the notes in her lap.
    I wrapped my arms around Tara and pulled her toward me. She buried her face into my chest and sobbed.
    â€œCan we see her?” I asked. I glanced down at Tara, “We need to see Taylor.”
    â€œYes, but not yet. She’s still in surgery.”
    Tara continued to sob into my chest. Dr. Pemblee didn’t have a great bedside manner, but she was a neurosurgeon giving us neurological facts about our daughter. Facts we didn’t want to believe. Tara was angry and she wanted the bearer of this unfathomably bad news gone, but I wanted to learn as much as I could. To Dr. Pemblee’s credit, at least she spoke in a way we could understand. I could see compassion in her eyes even if we didn’t hear it in her words. I knew that other than God Himself, she was the only one who could save our daughter.
    â€œOnce she is out of surgery, they will take her to ICU to get her stabilized. So it will be a while before you can see her. But in the meantime, I want you to be prepared for what you’re going to see—”
    Tara didn’t want to hear any more. She pulled away from my chest and began to rock back and forth, wailing.
    â€œShe’s going to have a lot of tubes connected to her. She’s on a ventilator, so be aware there is a large tube in her mouth and asmaller one in her nose. She has an external fixation device—a rod, basically—on her left leg to hold it in place, and she’s hooked up to