Monday, August 25

Late yesterday evening Tommy's son Steve drove out here from Manassas so that he could spend the day with Tommy at Ren rehab. When he called Sunday afternoon and told Tommy he would be coming, Tommy answered, "Looks like I'll have to be on my best behavior." He was. When Steve and I arrived, Tommy's eyes lit up and he said, "Well hello, son." In his morning physical-therapy session, he walked the full length of the hallway with Tim giving only minimal assistance and Steve bringing up the rear with the wheelchair. Tim pronounced it Tommy's best walk so far. "He's just showing off for me," said Steve, beaming, as Tommy sat quietly with that puckish expression he gets when he's trying not to laugh. At lunchtime I headed home, and the guys hung out together for the rest of the day. During the afternoon, they were back in the rehab gym with occupational therapist Barb, who put Tommy through standing-and-sitting drills. Before leaving for home after dinner, Steve helped Tommy call me on his cell phone; he is in the process of relearning how to use it. After we all said our hellos and it was time for Tommy to end the call by closing the lid, I could hear Steve's voice in the background, punctuated by loud intermittent beeps: "No, Pop, you gotta take your thumb off the buttons so you can close the phone...can you open your hand?...can you open your hand?...open your hand..." It's that right-hand ungrasping problem, still holding on; how odd to hear someone else's voice over the phone, saying what I have said so many times myself.