The basis for this story is two-fold. First, it is imperative to bring to light a desperate need for rehabilitation facilities that will more efficiently serve today's men and women veterans who are wounded and/or disabled. Second, an example of precisely why such a need has become imperative is based on a true story of an Air Force nurse who, if she could speak, would likely tell you in great detail why proper housing and more individualized care for today's veterans is sorely needed. People ask every day, by phone or in person, by text or email, how our daughter is doing. With every inquiry, I have to take a moment to reflect before giving an answer. There is always that small voice, that pause, the lump in my throat: how is she doing... really? Knowing each day will quite possibly see her make very small steps of increased productivity in learning to speak or to walk, to brush her teeth, to pick out the clothes for that day then work as hard as she can to get an arm in a sleeve, to learn to eat so that one day she won't be fed through a tube, and to be helped from the bed to her wheelchair. I swallow that insistent lump and realize she has made tremendous strides moment by moment, day by day. I thank God with every part of my being, every single minute of every single day that she is here at all. And then I thank Him that her mind is fully restored cognitively. To hear her speak again would be nothing short of a miracle. When I hear her laugh at a funny story or during a comedy film, to feel her hugs and the little pat on my back that says, "I love you" so fills my heart with infinite joy And, so, when people ask, I reflect. Knowing what she has been through - the depths of pain and suffering, the horror of not being able to defend herself when left alone, not even so much as to make a call for help - I reflect. The dream of being a wife and mother again is almost non-existent now, but it is still her hope. That crisp Air Force uniform she wore with such pride still gives her joy and so boosts her self-esteem when we dress her in it to attend an appropriate function. Happiness lights up her face Her pride is clearly evident. In that instant when people ask, I reflect because I know where she has come from and all that she has endured, I realize that in all the tomorrows she must continue to push on day by day by day, and it simply tears the heart out of me. Watching her smile and hearing her laugh gives us the greatest hope of all, even as we know that light at the end of the tunnel is still very far away. When people ask "how is your daughter doing," I reflect, and then I smile and say, "She is awesome "