There are some things you can teach a young person. You can teach them how to solve an equation, operate a machine, play an instrument, compete on a field, master a trade, or prepare for a career. You can give them lessons about perseverance and talk about the importance of getting back up when life knocks you down. But there are some things that are much harder to teach. Determination is one of them. Most of us probably don’t know exactly how much determination we possess until life puts us in a situation where we have no choice but to find out.
For nearly three months, Rylee Owens has been finding out.
Today, she came home.
Those four words seem remarkably simple considering everything they represent. For most of us, going home isn’t an accomplishment. It’s simply part of the routine. We get in the car, drive down familiar roads, pull into the driveway, open the door and go inside without ever stopping to consider what a privilege it is to do something so ordinary. For Rylee, coming home today represented something much bigger. It represented nearly three months of work, healing, rehabilitation, determination and an unwillingness to stop moving forward.

Recovery has a way of changing the way progress is measured. Things that were once automatic can become goals, and things most people wouldn’t think twice about can suddenly become victories worth celebrating. Progress doesn’t always arrive in giant leaps. Sometimes it comes an inch at a time, through another therapy session, another difficult day, another frustrating moment and another decision to try again tomorrow. Eventually, yesterday’s impossible becomes today’s challenge, and today’s challenge has a way of becoming tomorrow’s normal.
That kind of progress requires patience, grit and an extraordinary amount of willpower, and over the last nearly three months, Rylee has demonstrated plenty of all three. But perhaps what has made the greatest impression on the people who have followed her journey isn’t simply what she has accomplished during her recovery. It’s the way she has chosen to approach it.
Rylee hasn’t tried to convince anyone that everything has been easy. She knows her life will look different, and she has been remarkably open about the fact that there will be adjustments and challenges ahead. What she has refused to do, however, is treat “different” as another word for “less.” There is an enormous difference between those two words, and Rylee seems determined to demonstrate that difference every day.

When she recently shared an update about finally being able to come home, Rylee described herself in a way that probably tells you more about her than anything the rest of us could write. She’s still the “same old me.” There is something wonderfully Rylee about that sentiment. Circumstances may change the way we do certain things, but they don’t necessarily get to decide who we are. Her personality is still there. Her sense of humor is definitely still there. So is the determination that has carried her through nearly three months of recovery.
And then there is her gratitude.
When Rylee shared the news that she would soon be coming home, much of what she wrote wasn’t about herself at all. She talked about the nurses, therapists and doctors who helped her throughout her recovery. She talked about her family and the sacrifices they made to stay beside her. She talked about her college community and the people back home who sent cards, gifts, prayers, encouragement and support. After everything she had experienced, Rylee wanted to make sure everyone else knew how much they meant to her.
That tells you something about a person.
Over the last nearly three months, this community has had plenty of opportunities to learn something about Rylee Owens. We have learned that she can be grateful while facing uncertainty. We have learned that she can laugh while working through something incredibly difficult. We have learned that she can acknowledge the reality of the challenges ahead without allowing those challenges to determine what she believes her future can be.

Coming home today doesn’t mean the work is finished. Rylee knows that better than anyone. There is more healing ahead, more adjusting, more learning and undoubtedly more frustrating days mixed among the good ones. Prosthetics are part of her future, but Rylee is wisely giving herself time to heal before reaching that next chapter. There will be new goals, new milestones and probably some obstacles she hasn’t encountered yet.
But after watching her over the last nearly three months, there is little doubt about the attitude she will bring to whatever comes next. Rylee has demonstrated that moving forward doesn’t always mean moving quickly. Sometimes it simply means refusing to stop. You take the day that’s in front of you, do the work you can do, celebrate the progress you make and then wake up tomorrow prepared to do it again.
There is also something remarkable about what has happened between Rylee and the community surrounding her. When people first began rallying around her, the question was naturally, “What can we do for Rylee?” People wanted to help. They wanted to encourage her family, send prayers, raise money, offer support and make sure she knew that she wasn’t facing the months ahead alone. Her home community and college community responded in ways that clearly meant more to Rylee than she can easily put into words.
But somewhere along the way, the relationship changed a little.
While everyone was busy trying to encourage Rylee, Rylee started encouraging us.
Without setting out to give anyone a lesson, she reminded a community what perseverance actually looks like when it leaves the motivational poster and enters real life. It isn’t always dramatic. It doesn’t always come with inspirational music playing in the background. Sometimes perseverance is simply getting through a difficult Tuesday and deciding you’re going to give Wednesday everything you’ve got. Sometimes courage is admitting something is hard and doing it anyway. Sometimes strength is being able to laugh when circumstances aren’t particularly funny. And sometimes determination is accepting that tomorrow may look completely different from the future you once imagined while still believing that tomorrow can be pretty great.
That’s what makes today’s homecoming worth celebrating. It isn’t because Rylee has reached the end of her journey. She hasn’t, and she would probably be the first person to tell you that. Today matters because it represents just how far she has already traveled and how hard she has worked to get here.
There will be more chapters in Rylee Owens’ story. There will be more milestones, more challenges and more victories. There will probably be days when progress feels enormous and others when it feels painfully slow. That’s the nature of recovery. But Rylee has already shown her family, her friends and this community something about the kind of young woman who will be facing those days.
She’s determined. She’s grateful. She’s funny. She’s remarkably strong. And perhaps most importantly, after everything life has asked of her during these last nearly three months, she’s still Rylee.
Today, she got to do something most of us rarely stop to appreciate. She got to go home, back to the people and the community that have been pulling for her every step of the way.
And maybe the best thing we can say about Rylee Owens after watching her fight her way through nearly three months of recovery is something very simple: we thought we were supposed to be the ones inspiring her. Somewhere along the way, she turned that around on us.




