Two years ago I had just dropped out of Vanderbilt. Technically I had taken a medical leave of absence, but I knew I wasn't going back. I'd moved my stuff into my parents' house (mostly their garage), and I think by April I was already talking to Rutgers about transferring there.
Two years ago, I could barely walk to the end of the block and back again; I could barely stand at the stove long enough to make a simple meal. I was in too much pain.
Two days ago, I walked about two miles, grocery shopped for forty-five minutes, lifted weights at the gym, and then came home and spent two hours in the kitchen washing, chopping, cooking, assembling.
I don't really celebrate Easter anymore, but this weekend I was definitely celebrating the possibility of miracles.