Zoe is thankful.
Thankful for 250 days of grace. Thankful you've walked with her and carried her in your prayers when she couldn't go on. Thankful for doctors and nurses who believe in the pricelessness of a breath and the value of life.
She's thankful for things we walk by without noticing - a shadow or a brilliant color. The incredible dexterity in our hands. Wind in trees. For things we forgot had worth. A mother's sacrifice. For a baptism. For a breath.
And I think if you could ask her and if she could respond - and one day, you ask her for yourself in Heaven - you'll know Zoe right away, the shapely and tough-as-nails woman, terrible and beautiful as a goddess with a smile that makes you forget everything else - if you asked her if she knew all she had done through 250 days, she'd smile and tell you she didn't do anything at all. That God had done it in her and in you. She just fought and breathed and believed.
And you were moved because you forgot life was that simple and powerful and meaningful.
Zoe's thankful you remembered.