Annette Wright, my wife Lynne's only sister, died in Reston on March 21. She was 62.

She had suffered for well over fifteen years from what most people, me included, would have considered a crippling, indeed, totally incapacitating stroke.

Annette, however, was having none of it. And neither was Lynne. Their determination, and courage, and love for each other have been an inspiration, and with your permission I'd like to share a small part of their story.

Annette was a native of northern Virginia. She graduated from Wakefield High School, earned her BA in business administration from Roanoke College, an MBA from The George Washington University, and did post graduate work at Virginia Tech.

She played in tennis tournaments in Annandale, and played field hockey and basketball in college

She loved music, and played piano, organ, trombone, and guitar.

When personal computers were developed, Annette bought one of the first and began a life-long love of the machines that would change the world.

For most of her working career, including the very day of her stroke, she was an evaluator, a manager, in charge of audits with the Government Accountability Office. As she put it, "I was a workaholic."

Annette suffered her stroke at Thanksgiving, in November 1997. It was bad: a brain stem stroke brought on by an arteriovenous malformation. Annette barely survived.

She was in a coma for several weeks and was left with locked-in syndrome. Her "self," her personality, was completely there but, at first, she was unable to communicate.

Lynne was not accepting this situation..

She worked tirelessly with Annette and, over the years, they developed several means of communication, the most effective of which was a system based on carefully spelling words one letter at a time.

For over 15 years, Annette lived a life perhaps as full as that of any of us.

As a resident in a care center in Reston, she eventually participated in many activities, made day trips, and enjoyed many visitors.

Lynne and Annette went to Walmart once a month. Lynne and I took her to Great Falls Park, to Washington to see the cherry blossoms, to movies, to shop at Tyson's Corner.

Annette loved to go to Reston Town Center to sit by the fountain. Even though she only had movement in one bent wrist, she could play the piano keyboard, write on a whiteboard, and feed herself pureed food.

Annette attended several church services each week at the nursing home, and made a wonderful friend in a woman from one of the churches who visited weekly to play the guitar and sing for the residents, and sang requests for Annette.

She became active with Brain Injury Services, and during her last year, speaking through Lynne, gave presentations to BIS and other groups.

The most astonishing thing about Annette was her spirit. She never gave up. She had a deep faith; she was not bitter or depressed. Everyone who knew her wanted to know how she did it.

According to Annette, after her stroke she simply changed her expectations – she accepted a new "normal."

"Normal people see the big picture," she spelled to Lynne. "Brain injured people see the details. Normal people see the whole scene; I see the flowers."

"I have been thinking about reducing expectations," she once spelled. "It is difficult and takes a long time."

"The first question is how do I recover? It takes a while to accept the answer. It is not fair to me. I have not done anything to deserve this. But it just happened. There is no one to blame."

"Accept life as it is given you," Annette told us. "You do not have a choice. It will not work for you to get angry. If it would work, I would get angry."

"Qualities that are valued by the normal world are not valued in the brain injury world," she told us. "Efficiency is not the priority for the brain injured person. Patience is extremely valuable."

Speaking of her sister, Annette said, "Your helper is a critical part of the process. She sees small improvements that you do not see. She always greets you with a smile and a positive attitude. I do not think I could have made it alone."

"It is very important that people understand that major improvements may not happen for years."

"If I had any regrets," she signaled, "they would be that I did not celebrate the small things in life; moving my right hand, my right leg, or talking. It is the mundane things in life I miss the most."

"My all time favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip."

She once said, to everyone's amazement, "The stroke was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Then she explained: "It forced me to quit my job which I mistakenly thought was important. It forced me to give up my hard-charging life style. I valued people more for their intelligence. I learned to value them for the mere fact that they were born."

"Accept what it is and move on," she said. "You cannot see forward until you accept the new path."

I cannot begin to explain Annette's wonderful attitude and spirit, much less explain how she did it.

She reduced her expectations and didn't dwell on the way things used to be. Once she played tennis. After the stroke, she batted a balloon, with equally extraordinary concentration and enthusiasm.

She concentrated, she aimed, and she hit it as hard as she could.

She loved football; there was no bigger Redskins fan. She even bet on Super Bowls with me.

Right up to the day she was taken to Reston Hospital, she had fun. She participated in everything that was offered to her. She made decisions; she had favorites; she had opinions; she voted.

She was involved to the fullest in her life and she looked forward to the next good thing. She loved her family. She loved her friends. And she was especially fortunate to have a caregiver as dedicated as Lynne.

Together they truly moved mountains.

Annette was a remarkable and inspirational person.

During the years of her disability, she grew immeasurably and she positively impacted the lives of every person with whom she interacted.

Annette wanted people to know what a gift life is. She cautioned that we should not decide the severity of an injury beyond which we would not want to live. She said, "Life is valuable."

Annette once spelled for Lynne, "I am enjoying my retirement, thanks to you. I am happy."

On a personal level, my worst weed is Glechoma hederacea or gill-over-the-ground.