On March 8, 2017, I suffered a brain aneurysm that changed the course of my life. After a seizure woke my husband at 4:30 that morning, I became unresponsive. The 911 operator instructed him to perform CPR until paramedics arrived. At the hospital, doctors confirmed the seizure was caused by a ruptured aneurysm in the vertebral artery near the brain stem. In the emergency room, I experienced a second seizure and a heart attack before they performed the coiling procedure.

When Dr. Bieneman showed the extent of the bleed to my husband, he said, “If she survives, she most likely won’t be the person you married.” It truly is a wonder that I am here to share this today.

The next 72 hours were critical. Word spread quickly, and friends and family began sharing updates and prayers. In that moment, I saw how even Facebook could be used for good, drawing people together in hope.

I am the youngest of six, and all of us were blessed to attend Catholic schools. We were raised in a home rooted in faith. We prayed a decade of the rosary before leaving the dinner table. My dad was active in the Society of St. Vincent de Paul and attended daily Mass. My mom cared for others in countless quiet ways, leading prayer and making sure our home reflected God’s presence.

Looking back, I can see how God placed so many good people in my life. As a mother of four boys, I wanted to give them that same foundation. We were able to send them to Catholic schools, where they built strong friendships and became part of a community that felt like family.

At our parish, St. Peter and Paul in Waterloo, a rosary was organized the night of my aneurysm. The church was filled with people of many faiths. I was told that when they arrived, there was fear, but when they left, there was a deep peace. At Rockhurst University, where my son attended, a prayer service was also held.

In the weeks that followed, friends showed up in every possible way. They brought meals, helped with laundry, cared for our home and made sure our son got to school and practice. Messages, cards and prayers were countless. We were surrounded by love in action, a reflection of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy and what it means to Share the Love of the Heart of Christ.

After twelve weeks in the hospital and rehab, months of therapy and a second procedure that June, I can honestly say I am not the same person my husband married 36 years ago. In many ways, I am better. I believe that even in suffering, God is at work bringing about something greater.

Healing does not mean returning to what was, but allowing what is to draw you closer to God.

There is still so much of this story to tell. Throughout my recovery, there were many moments when God’s hand was present, even when I did not recognize it at the time. Now, I am more aware of His providence and try each day to follow His will, trusting that He will provide in His perfect timing.

I remember telling the nurses that God was not finished with me yet. I pray that one day, when I reach heaven, He will take me by the hand and say, “There are many people here because of you. Would you like to meet them?”

After all, we are called to love, trust, surrender and believe, sharing His love with others in all that we do.

The good Lord will take you when He’s good and ready…are you ‘GOOD’ and ‘READY’?

Barbara Davis Reinholz '85