Almost moving day

June 2 remains moving day for Dad. Kerry and I were able to have two hours of "family training" at the rehab hospital, which ended up being two hours in his room, first with PT/OT, then with his speech therapist. Getting to see Dad in person for that long was an unexpected surprise. He was using his left hand to eat, a remarkable change from when I'd last seen him, in mid-March, when we were excited over finger wiggles. His speech was easier, and there seemed to be less of the compulsive fidgeting I'd seen in Tulsa. On the other hand, we were told that there has been little progress with his left leg; mobility/independence, even within a home, will be limited. And we played a game of Uno, which prompted mixed feelings. While it was good to see him participate in the game, it highlighted, in a very personal and specific way, how his brain was damaged by the stroke. Dad and I would play cribbage while having a running, unrelated conversation. When the family played hearts, he was always the one counting cards. And now, he needed coaching to play a game of Uno. I am grateful for his rehabilitation to this point, and I trust that recovery will continue, but at the risk of stating the obvious, his condition is very different from three months ago.

I'm looking forward to Dad getting settled in a new home. I know it will take time for him to adjust to yet another new setting and new group of people, but I am optimistic that this will be pleasant and comfortable for him. Whatever you are inclined to offer for this next transition - prayers, lit candles, cereal box tops, hugs - I accept on Dad's behalf with gratitude.