Kris Robinett
Share
I remember the conversation clearly.
The doctors told me they could attempt to reattach my hand.
Multiple surgeries.
Long recovery.
No guarantees.
I was laying there trying to process everything that had just happened.
And in that moment… I felt something unexpected.
Peace.
I knew it would mean more procedures.
More trauma to my body.
More unknowns.
And I also knew something else.
I was already grateful to still have my arm.
I was alive.
I could still hug my kids.
I could still walk.
I didn’t feel desperate to get back what was gone.
I felt clear about protecting what remained.
So I chose not to reattach it.
That decision wasn’t weakness.
It wasn’t giving up.
It was strength.
It was trust.
It was listening to my own inner knowing in one of the most overwhelming moments of my life.
Healing didn’t begin months later.
It began right there — when I chose peace over panic. 💛
When I lost most of my hand, everyone focused on the surgeries.
The skin grafts.
The nerve pain.
The healing of the wound.
But what people didn’t see…
Was the identity healing.
I had to grieve the life that felt automatic.
The ease of doing simple things without thinking.
The independence I didn’t even realize I was proud of.
Healing wasn’t just learning how to button a shirt differently.
It was learning how to see myself differently.
There were days I felt frustrated.
Days I felt tired.
Days I wondered who I was becoming.
But slowly… something shifted.
I stopped focusing on what I lost.
And started honoring what remained.
My strength.
My ability to adapt.
My gratitude to still be here.
Healing isn’t about pretending it didn’t hurt.
It’s about deciding the pain doesn’t get the final word. 💛
There was a time when my only goal each day was this:
Be grateful to be alive.
After my accident with my horse, everything felt overwhelming.
Simple tasks weren’t simple.
Pain wasn’t just physical.
But I remember sitting there thinking…
I still get to watch my kids grow up.
And that became enough for that season.
Gratitude didn’t mean I wasn’t hurting.
It meant I chose to see what I still had.
Healing starts there.
Out here, brushing my little horse, things slow down.
This is where I’ve processed the pain.
The frustration.
The “why me” moments.
It’s also where I started believing I could rebuild.
Healing didn’t happen all at once.
It happened in quiet moments like this
Sometimes the strongest thing we can do is give ourselves space to think… and begin again. 🤍
when i was in the hospital not knowing how much of my hand i would be left with doing this helped me stay strong
- i would close my eyes and remember a really happy fun experience in Hawaii with my kids, we all took a surfing lesson, we were all giggling, my kids were 11 and 9 never surfed before and seeing them stand up and ride a wave made me so happy for them!
you need to focus on how to make your mind thoughts, become strong
you can not dwell on your struggles, your current situation
I made a discussion and got myself home to be around my family, friends that I love…
02/17/2026
Losing my hand taught me something unexpected…
You don’t rebuild a life in one brave moment.
You rebuild it in quiet mornings when no one is watching.
Some days all I could do was take a breath and begin again.
If you’re in a season where life feels heavy
you don’t need a full plan yet.
Just start today.
What you do in private… builds the life people see later
The rebuilding no one saw
Quiet choices changed everything
No applause. No audience. Just healing.
Several years ago I lost my right hand in a traumatic accident with my horse.
In one moment… life split into a before and after.
Follow the Money Making Blueprint inside this Program
Have you ever had moment where you thought, “There’s got to be more than this”?
07/15/2025
If you are rebuilding too…you’re not alone.
Click here to claim your Sponsored Listing.
Category
Culinary Team
Attire
Contact the public figure
Address
Seattle, WA
