When I woke up on Sunday, I was completely convinced it was Monday. I was getting ready to bring us to an appointment… only to realize it wasn’t until the following day. It felt like someone had handed us an unexpected extra day, and I’m glad they did.

The reason I’m sharing this is because that’s how fried both of our brains are right now—and honestly, it’s part of why it’s taken me a couple of days to write this update. I needed a little time to let my own brain catch up. I had already showered, gotten dressed, made breakfast, and started the day as if it were Monday. When I looked at the calendar clock in our bathroom and it said “Sunday,” I was convinced it was wrong. I actually unplugged it and plugged it back in because I thought it must have glitched. Nope… the clock was right. It was me.

Caregiving has a funny way of making the days blur together.

Over the past few days, John has been throwing himself into his homework. Almost every hour, he has his aphasia workbook open or is practicing something. We’ve been working on word-topic associations, word-finding exercises, the Tactus app, drawing, coloring, and reading together. He is putting everything he has into his recovery, and I’m incredibly proud of how hard he’s working.

His speech is still slow, but words are beginning to pop out more often.

Some of the words and phrases he’s been able to say clearly include:

Yes

No

Nope

Mama (what he calls me ❤️)

“No f***ing way”

“F*** it”

Hi

Hello (which he happily said to the dogs one morning)

I don’t know

As funny—and maybe a little shocking—as some of those phrases are, they’re actually encouraging. Swear words, greetings, and other instinctive or emotional expressions are often stored and processed differently in the brain than everyday language. They often return earlier after a stroke, so every spontaneous phrase—even the colorful ones—is another sign that his brain is finding pathways to communicate again.

As encouraging as those words are, the biggest breakthrough has actually been his ability to mimic speech.

One of the exercises in the Tactus app shows him a picture, pronounces the word aloud, and asks him to write it amd repeat it. His ability to imitate those sounds has improved dramatically over the past several days. It’s exciting because every little improvement feels like another building block toward getting his own words back.

I’ve been reminding him—and myself—to be patient. Pictures he struggled with last week are instant this week. Sometimes his wires go wonky, like today when he wrote “MILF” instead of “milk” – and we cracked up like the 12 year old children we are. Overall, these days are incredibly hard for him. Progress isn’t fast, but it is happening.

After a very emotional weekend, we’re both feeling something we haven’t felt in a little while: hope.

Today we also had a wonderful visit with our friends Brian and Erin. In true Anto fashion, we forgot to take a single picture. They brought us coffee and muffins, and we spent time sitting outside, talking, and showing them our garden. It was exactly what we needed.

Tomorrow morning we’re back to speech therapy, where we’re looking forward to showing his therapist the progress he’s made and hopefully coming home with a few more letter sounds to practice.

I’ve included a few photos of John’s recent homework and drawings. One of them is a floor plan of the upstairs of our house that he decided to draw completely on his own. The other is a sketch for a design he’d like me to turn into a TeePublic shirt. It’s his artistic expression of how he feels about stroke. He’s told me about the idea several times now, so I think it’s time I finally make the shirt.

Thank you, as always, for continuing to cheer us on. Every message, every prayer, every kind thought reminds us that we’re not walking this road alone.