Rikki Jo Neyer's mother wore sunglasses inside the house, not as a fashion statement, but because light had become intolerable to her brain. For eight and a half years, Neyer watched her mother vanish into an illness that no doctor could name, eventually experiencing what Neyer describes as catatonia that went unrecognized. Now, Neyer is sharing that journey in her debut book, Do You Believe In Miracles? Our Journey Out of Darkness and Into the Light, published by Lucid Books. The book is not just a memoir; it is a lifeline for caregivers and families navigating similar medical mysteries.
The importance of this announcement lies in its unflinching honesty about the cost of loving someone through the unthinkable. Neyer did not set out to become an author. "I set out to survive a season that felt impossible," she says. "For eight and a half years I watched my mother disappear into an illness no doctor could name, and I realized that if I did not write it down, the world might never know what she went through." Her mother could not always advocate for herself, so Neyer became her voice. That role is familiar to countless caregivers who fight for answers while facing exhaustion, fear, and a medical system that often looks away.
The book refuses to rush toward a triumphant ending. Instead, Neyer invites readers into the darkness before revealing the turning point: after years of decline, her mother received Ativan and woke from the catatonic state. Her mother later said, "I did die. And God brought me back." For Neyer, the recovery did not erase the years of suffering but gave them purpose. She admits that writing required returning to painful rooms. "The reader who is sitting in their own dark room right now does not need a polished version of suffering," she says. "They need the truth."
That truth distinguishes Do You Believe In Miracles? from a traditional inspirational memoir. It combines faith, caregiving, medical questions, and firsthand testimony, including four interviews with key witnesses, a scientific summary of catatonia, Scripture, and appendices for caregivers and those struggling to keep going. Neyer's experience as her mother's primary advocate gives these resources particular weight. She hopes the book will help other families asking similar questions. "I hope caregivers feel seen in a way that nothing else has made them feel seen," she says. "I hope anyone who has ever loved someone through a darkness that has no name finds language for what they have been carrying."
Beyond the medical and caregiving implications, the book poses the question in its title. Neyer believes in miracles. "And I hope every reader who has ever wondered whether God still finds people in the darkest places finds their answer here," she says. "He does. I am living proof. My mother is living proof." The journey transformed her understanding of beauty and suffering as companions, and hope as present even when circumstances offer little evidence of change. She describes the writing process in three words: "Witness. Endure. Return."
Perhaps most significantly, the book is being published while Neyer and her mother can share the story together. Her mother is alive, participated in the book, and after eight and a half years that seemed to steal so much, mother and daughter are making up for lost time. This announcement matters because it offers a rare, unvarnished look at the realities of caregiving and medical uncertainty, and it provides hope and practical resources for others facing similar darkness. For more information on Lucid Books, visit lucidbookspublishing.com.
