I had meant to write an entry on the week I unexpectedly spent in New York, and then another on the wedding I was at last weekend. One of them was quite excellent, the other one I could do without.
Anyway, I spoke to my father today: his speech isn’t too good – but he managed complete sentences. He still needs speech therapy, but he’s slowly getting his strength back.
It’s a strange feeling: hearing your father’s voice shouldn’t choke you up. It shouldn’t bring tears to your eyes. It’s good that he’s recovering, but bad that it happened in the first place. I should be thankful to whatever gods I believe in, but instead I’m a little heartsick. There was no rhyme or reason, just happenstance.