Spencer Wright, a famous rodeo cowboy, lost his young son Levi Wright.The three-year-old boy died after a near-drowning accident caused a traumatic brain injury.Spencer Wright, a famous rodeo cowboy, lost his young son Levi Wright.Levi was taken to a hospital in Salt Lake City after he drove a toy tractor into a river near his family’s house by accident.
About a mile downstream, Levi was found unconscious by local police.After being told he was brain dead and not likely to live, the boy started to show signs of improvement.“LEVI AWAKENED!” We don’t know much, but the doctor told me it was okay to be excited about that, and I AM! “My child is really tough!” his mom Kallie Wright wrote on Facebook.MRI results the next day “weren’t good,” which was a shame.“We are broken, but it’s just pictures that show a certain way of life.” “What Levi does over the next few days will really tell us everything,” Kallie said.Family and friends of Levi kept asking for prayers while he fought in the hospital.On June 2, Kallie told me some terrible news“After many sleepless nights, a lot of research, many talks with the best neurologists in the world, and millions of prayers, we are here facing our biggest fear,” she wrote. “Levi only showed us enough to buy us some time.” He did those things to show us that he wanted to stay here, even though the odds were against him. Now we know that he just wanted to give us time to be okay with letting him go.Levi Wright’s family turned off his life support after many tests, scans, and consultations.The next day, Mindy Sue Clark, a family friend, wrote on Facebook that Levi had died.“The last two weeks have been so hard that I can’t even begin to describe them.” The phone rang the night of his accident and I got the message that he had to leave last night. That’s why I don’t want to think about the bad or sad things. It hurts like someone tore my heart out and squished it right in front of me. What I want to talk about is all the miracles we saw during those 12 days.“The most wonderful three-year-old ever.” He was so perfect that we couldn’t keep him. In the last 12 days, this baby boy did a lot. He got a lot of people to get together. A child brought light into a very dark world. His parents could not have asked for a better child.During this very hard time, our thoughts and prayers are with the Wright family.
MY FIVE KIDS COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT MY 93RD BIRTHDAY — I SPENT IT ALONE UNTIL THE DOORBELL RANG
The old house, usually echoing with the phantom sounds of laughter and the clatter of family dinners, was unnervingly silent. Arnold, his 93 years etched into the lines of his face, sat in his favorite armchair, the fading afternoon light casting long shadows across the room. He had meticulously prepared for this day, his birthday, a milestone he had hoped to share with the five children he and his beloved wife had raised.
He had sent out invitations, not just any invitations, but handwritten letters, each one filled with the warmth of his love and the anticipation of their reunion. He longed to see their faces, to hear their voices, not through the cold, impersonal medium of a phone call, but in person, with hugs and shared stories.
The morning had begun with a flutter of excitement, each distant car sound a potential herald of their arrival. He had set the dining table, five empty chairs waiting patiently, each one a silent testament to the love he held for his children. But as the hours ticked by, the excitement waned, replaced by a gnawing sense of disappointment.
He tried calling, his fingers trembling as he dialed each number. Voicemail after voicemail, each unanswered call a tiny pinprick to his heart. It dawned on him, with a chilling clarity, that he would be spending this special day alone, a solitary figure in a house filled with memories.
He stared at the empty chairs, his mind drifting back to the days when they were filled with the boisterous energy of his children, their laughter echoing through the house, their faces alight with joy. He remembered birthdays past, filled with homemade cakes and silly games, with hugs and kisses and whispered “I love yous.”
The silence in the house grew heavier, pressing down on him like a physical weight. He felt a pang of loneliness, a deep ache in his heart. He had always been a man of resilience, a man who found joy in the simple things. But today, the silence was deafening, the loneliness unbearable.
He rose from his armchair, his movements slow and deliberate, and walked to the window. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow across the garden. He watched as the shadows lengthened, stretching across the lawn like long, reaching fingers.
Just as he was about to turn away, a sound pierced the silence. The doorbell rang, a sharp, insistent chime that startled him. He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. Could it be?
He walked to the door, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. He opened the door, and his breath caught in his throat.
Standing on the porch were not his five children, but a group of young people, their faces filled with warmth and kindness. They were his neighbors, the ones he had waved to over the years, the ones he had shared a kind word with.
“Mr. Arnold,” a young woman said, her voice gentle, “we heard it was your birthday. We wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
Behind her, a young man held a large cake, its candles flickering in the evening breeze. Others held balloons and small gifts.
Arnold’s eyes filled with tears. He was overwhelmed, touched by their unexpected gesture of kindness. He had been so focused on his children, on the family he had created, that he had overlooked the community around him, the people who cared.
They came inside, filling the house with laughter and chatter. They sang “Happy Birthday,” their voices a chorus of warmth and affection. They shared stories and memories, their presence a comforting balm to his loneliness.
As the evening wore on, Arnold felt a sense of peace settling over him. He realized that family wasn’t just about blood, it was about connection, about shared experiences, about the kindness of strangers.
He looked at the young people around him, their faces glowing in the candlelight, and he knew that he wasn’t alone. He had a community, a network of support, a family of friends.
He blew out the candles on his cake, a small smile playing on his lips. He had spent his 93rd birthday alone, but he hadn’t spent it lonely. He had learned a valuable lesson that day: that even in the face of disappointment, there is always kindness, there is always connection, there is always hope. And that, he realized, was a gift more precious than any he could have received from his children.
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