In between doctor appointments, Chris and I had a little time for lunch and rolling around together. (Ok I just reread that and saw how it sounds. But I mean in his chair! Cause he can't walk around, you know. Sigh.)
His muscles are sore but they are improving, as the nerve endings tingle and stretch and reach for the old movements. Inch by inch, we are seeing progress.
I'm working on Brixton's hoodie now. He's excited. Reading a Seattle writer's
memoir of his wild college years and the twisted beauty that he loved. He's a
good writer but it's a turbulent story. I'm taking it slow.
Brixton knows the story of Papi's accident so well that he can dictate it to the preschool teachers when he draws his daily get-well card.