Christopher Reeve had a major accident that left him paralyzed. He felt very hopeless and thought about ending his life. But everything changed when his wife said some supportive and encouraging words to him.
Christopher Reeve was well-known for playing Clark Kent in the popular “Superman” movies. His role made him loved by fans all over the world.
Christopher Reeve met his future wife through their shared love for the performing arts. One night, while taking a break, he went to a cabaret show and was captivated by a performer named Dana Morosini.
Winning Dana Morosini’s heart took some effort, but Christopher Reeve eventually succeeded. The couple married in 1992 and welcomed their son, William Reeve, later that same year.
In 1995, Christopher’s life changed dramatically when he was paralyzed from the neck down after a horse-riding accident during a cross-country competition.
In a heartfelt interview in May 2001, six years after his accident, Christopher Reeve talked about how his life had changed. He found it hard to believe that six years had gone by, feeling like the time was both very long and very short.
Christopher shared that he sometimes had flashbacks to the day of the accident, even though he tried not to think about it. He described that day as “very hot, very humid, and very lethargic.”
The Emmy Award winner also remembered feeling that “things weren’t really in the groove” that day. He admitted that he wasn’t fully into the competition and had even thought about going sailing instead.
Over time, Christopher found it easier to accept what had happened. The thoughts about what he could have done differently slowly began to fade.
Although Christopher knew his injuries might feel heavier over time, he decided to keep moving forward and not let those thoughts control his future.
When asked about how the accident affected his family, Christopher explained that while he had faced many injuries before, he always managed to recover without lasting effects.
He admitted that he used to think, “I must not injure myself to avoid becoming incapacitated.” This time, he realized how deeply his injury affected his loved ones.
He felt very guilty and recognized the burden his condition placed on his wife and children. “It’s okay to make your own mess, as long as it doesn’t affect others,” he said. But this injury had clearly impacted those closest to him.
Christopher recalled always trying to avoid serious injuries that could leave him incapacitated. But this time, he understood how deeply his injury affected his loved ones.
He admitted feeling very guilty, recognizing the burden his condition placed on his wife and children. He reflected, “It’s okay to make your own mess, as long as it doesn’t affect others.” Unfortunately, his injuries had a significant impact on those closest to him.
Christopher wondered how his family would cope and adjust to his condition. He realized they couldn’t do the things they used to do before the accident.
He also worried about how he would support his family financially and felt especially sad for his two older children, Matthew and Alexandra, from his previous relationship. They were only 15 and 11 when he got injured.
When Christopher woke up in the hospital after the accident, he was filled with despair and even thought about ending his life. In a moment of deep vulnerability, he asked his wife, Dana, if she would let him go. Dana looked him in the eye and said, “‘But you’re still you, and I love you.’” Her words gave him hope and strength to keep going.
On Instagram, social media users had strong reactions to this story. One person commented, “That’s so heartbreaking but the strength she gave him has me in awe.” Another user praised Dana, saying, “That is an amazing woman,” while someone else simply stated, “What a sad story.”
Dana’s unwavering love and support became a crucial turning point for Christopher, motivating him to aim for walking again. Her powerful words also inspired the title of his book, “Still Me.” This deep support helped Christopher find reasons to continue despite his injury.
The author encouraged people not to give up, reminding them that breakthroughs can happen. He talked about how, after the initial shock and grief of an accident, people face a choice: to give in to despair or to use their resources to make a positive difference.
For Christopher, the choice was clear—he chose to fight against the physical and emotional challenges, driven by his competitive spirit and determination to overcome the effects of his condition.
Christopher shared that for three years after his accident, he never dreamed of being in a wheelchair. Each morning, it took him a few moments to adjust and remember that he couldn’t move his arms or legs.
Reality often took five to ten minutes to sink in. In his dreams, he still saw himself doing activities he once enjoyed—sailing, riding, traveling, and acting on stage. His mind held onto memories of when he was able-bodied.
Christopher emphasized that while he couldn’t represent all disabilities due to his limited knowledge, he was dedicated to raising awareness. He worked hard to secure a two-hour primetime TV special that highlighted spinal cord injuries and showcased disabled performers.
Through his foundation, Christopher directed 30 percent of the funds raised to improve the quality of life for people with disabilities. He personally focused on research, therapies, and finding cures.
The actor acknowledged that, like any public figure, he was aware of differing opinions about his work. He believed everyone, including those with disabilities, had the right to focus their energy on their chosen goals, even if others disagreed with their approach.
Sadly, Christopher Reeve passed away in October 2004 from an infection. A year later, his wife Dana Reeve was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. She also passed away, two years later, in March 2006.
Man Kicked Pregnant Woman out – Story of the Day
I was so thrilled to reveal our pear-sized growing baby to my boyfriend, thinking he would be delighted with a surprise party and the ultrasound images. Instead, he threw me out of his house and the last person I imagined was right there for me.
The doorbell’s bright chime disrupted my excited anticipation. I smoothed the baby blue tablecloth and set down the ultrasound scans on the coffee table, displaying them proudly. After four months, Miles was returning from pursuing his football dreams.
He was coming home to a surprise. As he entered, sweat-streaked and weary, his eyes fixed on the swell beneath my dress. I was pregnant, but my excited anticipation faded under his intense gaze.
“Miles, we’re having a baby,” I stated, my voice wavering.
“I never wanted to be a father, Bella,” he scoffed. “You’re ruining everything!
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Suddenly, I noticed his friend, Dave, standing right behind him. He spoke up from the doorway. “Stop yelling at her, man.”
“This is none of your business, Dave!” Miles snapped back and slammed the door in his friend’s face.
I clutched my belly protectively as tears blurred my vision. “I want this child, Miles. It’s part of us,” I insisted.
“I can’t deal with a baby now, Annabelle. It’s your problem if you keep it,” he shook his head.
“But I thought you loved me,” I whispered.
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“That’s not enough. Love doesn’t win championships,” he retorted. “It’s the baby or me. You choose.”
“I won’t give up our child,” I declared, strength rising within me.
“Then leave my house—and my life!” he demanded, his eyes unyielding.
With a protective resolve for my unborn child, I packed my things and left, knowing I could never choose Miles over this new life.
Snowflakes spiraled under the streetlamp’s glow as I struggled with disbelief. Miles’ betrayal echoed in my mind, shattering my dreams for the future. I sat on a snow-draped step, cradling my belly, feeling utterly alone.
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Echoes of my lonely past – growing up in an orphanage and never making familial connections – loomed over me. But out of nowhere, Dave appeared, his concern etched in the snow-melted paths on his face.
“Annabelle, come with me until you figure things out,” he offered, kneeling to look into my eyes.
I hesitated, pride warring with desperation. “I can’t, Dave. I don’t want your pity.”
His earnest plea broke through my resolve as a sudden pain clenched my abdomen. “You need a safe place. Let’s go,” Dave insisted.
Reluctantly, I acquiesced, guided more by necessity than choice, and we drove through the blizzard to his cozy, cluttered home. It was such a different atmosphere than what I’d known with Miles, filled with warmth and haphazard charm.
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Mismatched furniture and overflowing bookshelves spoke of a life well-lived.
“Thank you,” I murmured, grateful yet overwhelmed.
While I settled in, Dave fumbled with hospitality, offering me food and insisting on my comfort. Dinner was simple but nurturing, and it brought a semblance of peace. But when Dave told me he was sleeping on the couch, I had to protest.
“I’m not a burden, Dave. You should be comfortable in your own home,” I shook my head.
“It’s fine, Annabelle. Rest now. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
***
I lay in Dave’s guest room, struggling against the haunting memory of Miles’ indifferent gaze. Sleep eventually claimed me after several hours of sifting through painful thoughts and tears.
A week later, the rhythm of life with Dave brought a semblance of normalcy. He was ever considerate, his kindness so different from what I knew with my ex. However, I had to fend for myself.
One crisp morning, after Dave left for work, I slipped out with a heavy heart. I’d taken a supermarket delivery job, so I wouldn’t burden him with more of my troubles.
But the job proved harder than I imagined. Trudging through the snow, the weight of groceries, and my growing discomfort only made things harder. Also, I should’ve known Dave would try to find me.
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Suddenly, his car pulled alongside me on a busy sidewalk. His expression was full of worry and astonishment.
“Annabelle, why are you working like this?” he asked.
Trying to downplay my efforts, I mentioned needing the job for my prenatal needs. Dave frowned and shook his head angrily, but I know it stemmed from care and concern.
“I can’t just sit around, Dave. I need to prepare for the baby,” I continued, my resolve firm.
He sighed, leading me to the back of his car. “Let me show you something,” he said, opening the trunk and revealing a collection of maternity essentials. I began crying, overwhelmed by his thoughtful preparation.
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“Why all this, Dave?” I inquired through the tears.
“It’s for you and the little one,” he said with a heartfelt smile. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Annabelle.”
His words and actions, so full of unconditional support, deepened my gratitude. Hugging him, I whispered, “You’ll make a great dad someday, too.”
Still, I was still hesitant. Accepting even more from Dave seemed wrong. But he proposed a trade-off: my cooking for his support. He also joked and teased me, and that light-hearted banter eased the tension in my body and heart.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I laughed genuinely. Over the next few days, our pact became a beautiful routine at his house. I found solace in the simple acts of kindness he showered upon me.
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At the supermarket, I resolved to leave my job. I could afford to, at least for now, thanks to Dave’s support. And as time passed, our connection deepened.
Dave’s gentle presence became a constant in my life. His care was evident in every gesture, from tying my shoes to surprising me with thoughtful gifts.
One day, as he felt the baby kick, the joy in his eyes sparked a realization in me: I was falling in love with him. But fear crept in, overshadowing my newfound happiness. Could someone like Dave truly love a soon-to-be single mother with a complicated past?
These thoughts haunted me, and I wrestled with the idea of confessing my feelings, fearful of risking the precious bond we’d built.
***
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During a routine chicken casserole night, Dave arrived from work, smiling tiredly. “Smells incredible,” he complimented, placing some tulips on the table.
As we ate, he praised the meal. “Annabelle, this is phenomenal. Reminds me of my mom’s cooking.”
I felt warmth running through my body at his words. So, as we talked, our shared memories made me bold. “I’m so glad you liked it, honey,” I said, immediately regretting the slip.
Dave’s reaction was immediate: his smile faltered. Our pleasant moment was shattered, and I panicked. “Dave? I… it’s just pregnancy brain, I’m sorry,” I stammered, trying to lighten the mood.
He attempted a grin again but stood from the table. “Delicious, as always. Thanks,” he said, leaving the room abruptly.
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The following days were filled with awkward silences. Dave’s behavior changed; he left early and returned late. His greetings were brief, and his eyes always avoided mine.
One afternoon, I was curled up on the couch, lost in a sea of worry and self-loathing, when a sharp electronic chime shattered the oppressive silence.
It was a voicemail notification on Dave’s phone, lying abandoned on the coffee table.
A woman’s voice, professional and polite, filled the room. “Mr. Evans, this is a reminder that the documents for your new apartment are ready for pick-up at your convenience.”
The message struck like a blow, sinking my heart. Dave was planning to move. Heartbroken, I realized I couldn’t stay, not as a reminder of a complicated situation he wanted to escape.
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So, I decided to go, my heart even heavier than when I tried to leave before. “We have each other, my little boy,” I whispered to my belly, preparing to face the world alone as I packed.
Before I could leave, though, the blare of the doorbell made my entire body jerk. For a second, I thought it was Dave, but I opened the door to see Miles, who sneered at my pregnant form. His first words dripped with disdain. “Motherhood’s added a few pounds, huh?”
“What do you want, Miles?” I asked, my voice sharp.
He breezed past, dismissing my anger with a smirk. “Just checking on you and my bachelor buddy’s hospitality,” he said, his tone patronizing.
His audacity stunned me. “Get out,” I demanded.
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He ignored my command, finally getting to the point. “Let’s be a family, Annabelle. Think of the publicity for me, the ‘devoted dad.’”
Publicity? For his football career? Was he insane? He wanted to use our child for his gain! Revolted, I pushed him away, condemning his monstrous selfishness.
Miles laughed. “What are you going to do without me? You think Dave took you in because he loved you? Cared about you and your baggage? You were just another project, a chance to play hero. A charity case, not his ladylove.”
For a second, I considered his words, my thoughts warring in my head. But a sudden pain, sharp and unavoidable, distracted me. A few beats later, liquid splashed on the floor.
“My water broke, Miles,” I gasped, panic setting in as another contraction hit.
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His reaction shifted from mockery to horror. “The baby’s coming?” he asked, staggering back in disbelief.
As pain overwhelmed me, Miles fainted, and darkness edged my vision. But during the chaos, Dave’s voice reached me, like a knight ready to save the princess.
“Annabelle? Are you alright?” Dave asked, worriedly taking my hand. “We need to go to the hospital.”
“I… I’m so sorry, Dave,” I stammered, tears blurring my vision further. “For everything. For intruding into your life, for making you take care of me all these months. I know… about the new apartment. You were moving out because of me.”
Dave frowned and then, sighed, exasperated. “You’ve got it all wrong. The apartment is for us, Annabelle,” he explained. “It has a nursery for our baby. I love you.”
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Another sharp pain overtook my body before I could gush over his confession. Dave scooped me in his arms and put me in his car, not even caring that Miles was still unconscious on his tiled floor.
The drive to the hospital was full of agony and anticipation. Our baby boy Matthew’s arrival was a chorus of cries and relief, but it marked the beginning of our new journey, one full of love.
Years later, with the birth of our daughter Hope, our family became complete. Dave’s unwavering passion and protectiveness turned past pains into distant memories I never thought about again.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
While a pregnant Annabelle found true love after being kicked out by her boyfriend, in another corner of the world, Megan found her special someone after her husband David left her. He not only fat-shamed his devoted wife but also dumped her for another woman. Here’s the full story.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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