Recently got out of the hospital, still throbbing from my two broken ribs and a suspected infection in the bursae behind my kneecap. Intravenous antibiotics 24/7. Much pain and depression for the loss of all the agility that I had gained.

I started thinking that I might even slip into the Next World but never blamed G-d, for He has only been good, and I am eager to meet Him whenever He so wants me.

Well, I got well enough to go home after seven days, but I am still feeling hellacious. Linda took over and mothered/wifed me in every (un)imaginable way. As my mama would bless the most self-sacrificial people in her life, “May she have a radiant home in the Garden of Eden!”

Then, as G-d always seems to concoct His mystical elixir, our Joey, Jessica and Simmy, Mikey, Jonny and Bela the Wonderdog magically appeared at our door (with kosher fried chicken in their basket). This in itself was a miracle, as with all their wacky schedules, it’s hard to get them out here for Shabbat.

And boink!

Mysteriously, I snapped back to health and iced the visit with a festive prandial at our favorite, Grill Marks. (Don’t worry: It’s the highest-end exotic burger place in town, where we nouveau-kosher folks ate veggie and salmon burgers — crazy woohoo!)

I felt we were bonding on an infinitely higher level, which lifted my soul to G-d’s gate. Now rehab comes to the house three times a week, and the losses are all being recouped.

Let me offer you this from my heart: May you always be blessed by such wonderful healing and by the elixir of life. And if you start dreaming about your trip to the Next World, please call me. I’ll bring the fried chicken — kosher, of course.

Marc Wilson, formerly of Atlanta, is a retired rabbi who writes from Greenville, S.C.