What a day!

In the morning it was all fog and fumes through the bedroom windows but lit up as if from within by the sun off there to the east somewhere so that the whole world was a kind of bright grey. This is the kind of morning that always causes Tanja to announce that it will be a sunshiney day. This morning was no different.

“This looks like it might burn off,” she said. “Don’t you think?”

The weather app did not share her optimism, indicating, at best, a glimpse of sun in the late afternoon.

We drove downtown for her first outpatient Occupational Therapy appointment, the road full of people anxious to gain an advantage. We ran the wipers intermittently to keep the windshield clear.

But by the time her appointment was over and she found Wren and me on 23rd, the sun was out and the sky was blue. It brought to mind the words of the other Chuck D.:

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light and winter in the shade.”

On the corner of Lovejoy and 23rd Tanja filled us in about her appointment.

“The therapist told me that she’d been reading my history and was surprised when I walked in. She said, with my injuries and this much time, it was surprising to find me doing everything I’m doing. She said she expects me to make a full recovery.”

We’ve loved the people we’ve dealt with at every stage in this process. And they have all been very practical, reasonable, cautious people. Nobody holds out false hope.

So, for us, looking for every sign of improvement, trying to find encouragement in things that feel like set backs, and basically whistling in the dark, having this professional levy this assessment is wonderful.

Tanja is doing great. She’s walking. She’s tying her own shoes. She’s feeding herself. But wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could garden again? If she could knit again? If she could do those incredible little drawings that capture the spirit of a being, usually some animal, in just a few inexplicable strokes of the pen? If she could play the piano again? Haven’t we been just a little bit afraid, in the quiet part of our hearts, that this was too much to hope for? That it was even a little bit greedy?

Well, I don’t think Tanja has ever looked at it that way. She’s just been working hard and hoping for the best. It’s not like she deserves it or doesn’t deserve it. It’s not like someone somewhere is weighing pros and cons and delivering justice. She’s just working hard, hoping for the best and it looks like the best is going to be quite good indeed!

She walked a ton today–we were so happy about the news we walked down to Killer Burger and feasted, the walked back to a thrift shop Wren wanted to check out and now Tanja is pretty much pooped out. And tomorrow is her first PT outpatient day!

So we must draw a curtain on this day, a day that turned out sunny despite what the experts predicted. Who knew?

On our drive home, Wren played this song because he knows how it makes Tanja feel: