One month ago, Amish Cook columnist Gloria Yoder suffered the loss of her husband Daniel in a logging accident. In today’s column, Gloria candidly recounts the events of that day, and Daniel’s eventual passing in the evening. Here’s how it starts:

The door swung open, in walked my mother, kindly asking, “Gloria, did you hear that Daniel was in a logging accident? There are two squads sitting in your driveway.”

Children scattered in all directions. Howls erupted on all sides. “Is Daddy okay? What happened? Is he gonna die?”

There were no answers.

Grandpas watched the children, I headed for the woods.

Dashing through the briers, I dropped down beside Daniel. Could it be true?

I poured all the love I ever had on him while the paramedics did all they could.

Soon Daniel was taken to the ambulance and I sprinted to the house, meeting our six little children, overflowing with questions. I told them I’m going to need to go with Daddy in the ambulance to see him off in Robinson where he’ll be life-flighted to Evansville, Ind. Tears and more tears followed. “Mom, we want you with us!!”

My heart rent in two. I’m a mom, but I’m also a wife.

I tried assuring them they’ll be okay, and made quick plans of meeting them on Route 1 where we’ll all head to Evansville together.

Sirens whistling, we made our way to Robinson. I kept talking, singing, praying, and assuring Daniel. By now he was responding and feebly told me of the excruciating pain in his abdomen and lower back.

Arriving next to the helicopter pad, I dreaded what was coming next. There was no choice. I bade him good-bye, and watched the helicopter, as the propellers picked up speed, gently lifted and turned south, heading off with greatest prize I ever knew or loved. Feelings ran too deep for words, even too deep for tears.

Now heading to where my parents, the children, and baby-sitters were waiting for us, I kept watching the chopper.

“You know, it really seems like there are angels around that helicopter,” I thought as I watched it grow smaller by the second. Moments later my brother, who was with me, said, “You know, there are angels around that helicopter.” There was no doubt, God would watch over him.

Now as we launched into our 1½ hour drive to Evansville, I told the children all I could about their beloved Daddy, yet speaking softly and generally enough to shield them from any unneeded trauma.

I suspect and hope that sharing with readers is something that helps Gloria in this time of pain and loss. Gloria ends the column with this:

Since then there have been bushels of tears, children sorting through the shock, countless questions, yet a God that keeps proving himself bigger than it all!

God bless you all for your love, contributions, and support!

You can read the rest here.

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