When people meet my son Roman, most wouldn’t guess he’s recovering from a brain injury. They certainly would never guess that he was technically dead for 35 minutes. Our journey with Roman the past six years is perhaps best described in Alma’s words: “Nothing could be so exquisite and so bitter as my pains. … [Yet] on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy” (Alma 36:21).
I was sweeping the kitchen in our home in Washington when I got the call that Roman was in the hospital. He’d gone into cardiac arrest while exercising on the track at Utah State University. Terrified, my wife and I and our youngest son were in the car within 20 minutes of hanging up the phone. Eight agonizing hours of driving to Utah followed.
Roman had extensive brain damage due to oxygen deprivation. We feared the worst as he lay in a coma for days, hooked up to every imaginable machine. Would he live? If he did, would he be stuck in a vegetative state? Roman was a returned missionary who was supposed to have his whole life ahead of him.
When Roman woke up, he wasn’t really there. Our Division I track athlete now couldn’t hold his head up. He couldn’t talk.
Two months later, he came home with us to Washington. We, of course, sought out every therapy and treatment possible to help heal his brain. I testify that it was through God-given miracles that we found life-changing resources.
Watching your child suffer is extremely agonizing. Yet on the other hand, I could not be more grateful for what this experience has brought to our family and to me personally. Our family motto became Isaiah 40:31: “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”
Roman still has cognitive challenges. But the progress he’s made compels me to say, “I stand all amazed.” He drives himself, volunteers in the community, takes classes at our local college, and serves in his young single adult ward.
Back in the early months of his recovery, Roman used to apologize through tears to my wife and me for being a burden. Because of his struggles with short-term memory, he’d forget he’d already apologized and do it more than once a day. Each time he did, we’d cry together. But while caring for Roman is challenging and I never wanted him to suffer, today I feel only deep gratitude for everything he’s taught me. He inspires me every day with his determination and trust in Heavenly Father.
I truly feel that I’ve been transformed into something a little different, a little better, over the past six years. The bitter pain, the sweet joy—somehow all of it comes together for our good when we choose Jesus Christ as the source of our strength.
Editor’s note: This article first appeared in the March/April 2026 issue of LDS Living Magazine.
More articles for you:
▶ 3 starter ideas to get Easter into your kids’ hearts this year
▶ Jean Bingham shares 5 tips for confidently articulating your faith
▶ How this California stake organized an Easter event that drew thousands
