December 2017 Clips

Fall 2017 Clips

Ode to Shane

For nearly two and a half years I watched them come to him

Broken and traumatized they would come.

The patient that suffered a brain injury from a serious car or bike accident,

the young mother that randomly stroked during pregnancy,

the adrenaline junkie who never wore his helmet on his motorcycle,

And so many others in desperate need of neurological rehabilitation.

The patient sometimes suffered so severe an injury, he or she was as a little child. 

Like somebody hit the "reset" button and

life would never ever be the same.

With their spouse, or their parents, or their children they would come to him for help

in shambles,

often without hope.

And this great man who I worked directly under,

this man who changed countless lives for the better-

this man who made me and everyone around him laugh every day-

this man who would work around the clock;

he would restore their hope.

It was inspiring to witness him in action.

"Your schedule is full for the day" I would tell him 

"Put this new patient over my lunch break" he would reply. 

And I would remind my boss, my diabetic friend, to be sure to eat. 

After even one appointment with this gifted physical therapist, 

that patient or that family member that came to my desk moments before

with darkness in their eyes,

those who assumed life was now pointless

would have a glimmer of light restored.

I saw it in their eyes.

I saw how he gave them hope 

and how he helped them feel light again;

that life could still be meaningful-

that new goals could be set,

that life was still rich and there was still much good to be found.

When his patient accomplished a new exercise or walked one step further,

or showed an increase in strength, range of motion, or endurance

he would sincerely and genuinely celebrate with them!

Former patients who progressed and moved on would always return to see 

their hero,

their friend,

their therapist.

Even years after their accident, they never forgot him-

Because everybody admired and loved this man and wanted to be around him.

He worked hard, he played hard, he loved his family with his entire being.

He was patient and kind. He always let me play soccer with him and the rest of our team, 

and even tried coaching me so I could attempt to contribute to the game.

He cheered me on through my dark journey of infertility.

He often asked how Jon's law school education was coming along 

and wanted all the best things for my family.

He validated my work for him and with a twinkle in his eye would say
"I know this job is not your Nirvana, but we're so glad you're here." 

He knew how desperately I yearned to be a mother 

and he knew our need for health insurance. 

When I made it to the light at the end of my personal dark tunnel,

he held me baby Amberly Faith in his arms

 and doted on her 

each time I brought her into the office. 

I look at the most recent pictures of him with his beautiful granddaughter 

and I cry.

The tears won't stop falling

because I think of his beautiful family he now leaves behind.

I think of the hundreds, no

the thousands of lives

he has undoubtedly changed for the better.

The souls he helped heal and the goodness of his heart

and the meaningful work he did day in and day out for others.

He lifted, he pushed, he pulled, he coaxed, he strengthened, and he inspired all who knew him.

I am one of those thousands of lives Shane Rosenberg has touched. 

I contemplate on how many souls must have rejoiced at his entering 

through the other side of the veil last evening.

Our hero, 

our rescuer,

our friend. 

God bless you, Rosenberg Family.

My fervent prayers are with you.

Heaven seems to only call home the most exceptional ones.

This family is in need of donations for Shane's funeral:

 https://www.gofundme.com/shane-rosenberg-family-memorial