Daniel has been home for a month now, for which of three weeks he has been in a coma. The doctor at the army hospital said Daniel was on fast track to full recovery, and this happens. I've been allowed visiting hours. It's hard on everyone. And a massive test of faith.

Most of my visits have been consisted of silent prayers. Sarah keeps encouraging me to talk to Daniel, let him know that I am nearby. I don't know if it's fear, but I keep expecting him to open his eyes and shout 'Gotcha!' But I know Daniel would never do that. Or would he? Daniel hid for three months, after surviving a shot to the chest. I almost want to believe this is an act, but how can he keep such a straight face?

As I sit next to Daniel's hospital bed, I can't bring myself to say anything. Daniel looks so lifeless and it breaks my heart. But I keep reminding myself of Daniel's words just moments before all this happened. (enter words here)

"How are you holding up?" Sarah asks as she enters the room.

"I should be asking you that question," I reply softly, sipping my coffee. "I'm getting by, if that's what you mean."

"You should talk to him," she says, motioning to Daniel. "Heather, I'm serious. Tell him that you have been coming here every day since he came home. Do it for me."

I sigh, looking at Daniel as he lays motionless in bed. I should be talking to him.

"I'll give you a minute," Sarah whispers, giving me a gentle nudge towards the bed. "I know he's been waiting for you," and to Daniel she says "I'm going to step out for a bit. Heather will keep you company."

I drop my stuff in the corner as she leaves. I stand next to the bed, hesitant. I feel a little odd about talking to someone when they can't talk back to me.

"Hey Daniel," I say, kneeling as I lean my elbows on the bed. "It's been so weird at the pharmacy lately. No one is coming in for hair dye."

I watch his face, hoping for even the slightest change of expression. Nothing.

"I was reading this blog the other day, about a young man who was shot in the head and he went into a coma. His uncles went to see him and they ministered to him . . . They spoke to him, like I am speaking to you now, and he responded using the beeping noises of the machines. One beep for yes and two bees for no . . . Can we do that?"

I glance at the machines. But they remain like normal. I wonder if Daniel could answer me. The story touched my heart. It was a supernatural occurrence. At this point, I will try anything to know Daniel is still here.

"The testimony was so impacting," I go on, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I later read that sometimes the souls of people in a coma are still completely alert . . . Can we see if the yes-no thing will work?"

Nothing. I look at the machine, willing it to change pattern. I look back Daniel, reaching for his hand. I'm expecting him to squeeze back, but that's only a small hope.

"Please," I whisper; the tears are flowing now. "Lord in Heaven, I can't lose him."

I rest my head on the bed, trying to calm myself. The machine goes crazy, the beeping noises accelerating. Then, it stops and becomes a flat line.

"Daniel?" I say in a bit of panic, watching the machine. I pull myself together quickly. "One beep for yes, two beeps for no. Okay?"

Beep. My heart flips.

"Is that a yes?" I ask, squeezing his hand.

Beep.

"You can hear me?"

Beep.

"Okay . . ." He's responding. "You know that I've been here every day since you went into a coma?"

Beep.

"Has Sarah told you that?"

Beep. I smile, bringing his hand closer to me.

"I miss you coming to the pharmacy," I lower my voice. "Did I ever tell you that you're my favorite customer?"

Beep, beep.

"Well, it's the truth, but it's a secret. So, you can't tell Mrs. Gibson, okay?"

Beep. I almost can't believe what is happening right now.

I sigh, "I brought my Bible with me. Would you like me to read to you?"

Beep. I let go of Daniel's hand, and retrieve my bag.