One of the effects of Dad's stroke has been the inability to speak.
He can get out the rare "Yup" or "Nope" - not much else.
Don't worry - this isn't going to be a whiny "strokes suck" post. (Although they do. Hard.)
This is going to be an "even under the duress of a massive stroke, Tut rocks" post.
Last night, as I was getting ready to leave the hospital, I said, "I'll be back early tomorrow morning, Dad." He smiled at me with the look of love to which I have become addicted. He seemed to be in good spirits, so I decided to play.
"We can watch the royal wedding."
His smile faded a little bit.
"We can talk about the dresses and the flowers..."
Now he was almost`grimacing...
"...and the hats."
He gripped my hand and said, clear as a bell, "Uh uh!"
So happy to hear his voice, I kissed his face.
"Don't worry. We'll watch the golf channel."
He released his grip, smiled, and closed his eyes, confident that the next day would be more about putters and less about princesses.