We have a truce. He’ll stay until he’s well enough to leave, then he’s going off to deal with unfinished business. Who knew I’d have to let go of my dreams to save them? Maybe he’ll come back, hopefully he gets things repaired with his daughters. He wants to sell the house or trade it.
Actually, he’s so much better this week that when I’m not looking at him, I could almost forget the stroke. Doctor said the manic emotions are right on point for his healing. Tonight, he’s tired too. 2-4 hours isn’t much sleep for either of us. He made me get up with him at 4:15 this morning. I could kill him, but his lip quivered and he said I’m all he has. So I made him tea and let him talk.
This thing called stroke is wicked.