I spent the morning with John today and got there early enough to find that he had already made himself eggs for breakfast. He was proud, but not pleased. I think he prefers making eggs at home 😀

I was also able to sit in on one of his speech therapy sessions. Today's exercises focused on matching everyday objects to their written words (placing a butter knife with the word "knife," a pen with the word "pen"), spelling simple words using Scrabble letters, and practicing speech sounds.

Today brought a milestone that made all of us smile: John produced an "mmm" sound for the first time. It may seem like such a tiny thing, but it is actually the first consonant sound he's been able to make. Up until now, his speech has mostly consisted of vowel sounds. Recovery happens one small step at a time, and today was one of those steps.

I've also been learning so much about aphasia. Before this week, I thought speech therapy would be about teaching someone to talk again, almost like teaching a child language. It isn't like that at all.

Imagine an apple. John can picture an apple in his mind. He can recognize one sitting on a table. He can point to it. He may even be able to write the word "apple." But when he tries to say "apple," the pathway that carries that word from his brain to his mouth has been damaged. The thought is there. The understanding is there. The words simply can't travel the road they once did.

Understanding that has changed the way I see everything he's working so hard to accomplish.

We also had one of the hardest moments we've shared since this all began.

I asked John if he was scared. He nodded yes.

Then I asked if he understood everything in his head but just couldn't get the words out. Again, he nodded.

I told him that I was scared too—that I was afraid I might never hear him call me "Monkey" again.

We both completely broke down.

Sometimes there aren't words that can fix what's happening. Sometimes all you can do is hold each other's hand and cry.

Another big first: He shaved! One small nick beneath his nose but success. And maybe a tad too much shave gel.

This afternoon, John had a wonderful visit with his sister, Mary Ellen, and his brother-in-law, George. They took a nice walk outside and even did a little "grocery shopping" exercise, where he practiced selecting items from the shelves. It was both therapy and a chance to feel a little more normal.

Like every day, though, his brain eventually let him know it had had enough. After a few hours he was ready to rest. Fatigue is one of the biggest parts of brain recovery right now, and when he's tired, he sleeps. Healing is hard work.

Finally, I want to say thank you.

I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the kindness, generosity, and love that has poured in over the past few days. The response to John's GoFundMe has left me completely speechless.

One of my biggest worries has been how we were going to navigate this next chapter. John won't be driving for quite some time while he continues to recover. Between the aphasia, his communication challenges, and the cognitive healing that still needs to happen, it simply isn't safe yet.

Your generosity gives us something priceless: breathing room.

It means we'll be able to get John to therapy and medical appointments, help him get out of the house when he wants to run errands or simply regain some independence, and provide a safety net while we face medical bills and the many unknowns ahead.

I don't know how to adequately thank every one of you.

Please know that every donation, every message, every prayer, every visit, every shared post, and every word of encouragement has reminded both of us that we are not walking this road alone.

From the bottom of my heart… thank you.