Today we returned Dad's wheelchair to the medical supply place. He hasn't used it in weeks, but was keeping it "just in case." Last week, he said he was ready to let it go.
It got me thinking how short a time ago we would have to drag that wheelchair in and out of the van everywhere we went. (Some days it felt like all we did was get in and out of the van!) I know it's so easy for Dad to get discouraged about not progressing as quickly as he would like, but days like this (actually
most days for the past couple of weeks!) it's mind-bogglingly miraculous to me how quickly he's recovering. It really helps that my aunt arrived today -- she saw him just before he was released from the hospital -- and keeps reminding us of the difference in him (especially his vision) in just the last couple of months. Very encouraging.
Last night, Dad and I were watching the news and they were doing a puff piece on the Young @ Heart
chorus. One of the ladies they interviewed said, "Life begins at 70!" and I had to smile because Dad's been a little apprehensive about his birthday tomorrow ("I don't
feel 70."), but it seems to me as he daily, bravely struggles to get his life back, that maybe life does really begin at 70.
Becky made yummy cake and decorated it in the theme of the evening (the tanks are taking brown-sugar hills in case you can't see the detail).
The Coonradt boys.
Dad in his new "Indiana Jones" hat. (He's already my hero, he didn't need a hat to prove it.)
