Hi Everyone.

Another long run without tons of updates about Connie’s health. It’s been a summer of ups and down, but progress prevails. I hope everyone is in the midst of a lovely summer.

Michelle and I were in Cortland the entire month of June and into the beginning of July. The whole time was pretty busy; tumultuous even. We visited Mom frequently at Cortland Park Rehabilitation. She was also often visited by MANY of her family members, grandkids, colleagues, life-long friends, former students, and nearly daily (or twice daily) by our dad, Ron.

Cortland Park is not anyone’s first choice of facility, having seen a few different ones. The folks who work there for the day-to-day operations are very nice. Good energy. They love and care about the residents, that’s clear. The administration, on the other hand, has been somewhat disappointing and without the warmth and “customer service” you’d hope for when you’re just trying to ensure the best quality of life for your loved ones. I’m not going to list my grievances, and these views and opinions are solely my own. I don’t speak for my dad (who’s footing a fat bill to their corporate overlords), and I don’t speak for any other residents or their families.

In that month, Mom was very up, somewhat down, and then surprised us at the end. She was filled with immense joy to see Michelle, Floyd (our dog), and me each time we were there. We shared SO many lunches and dinners with her. She requires the help of someone to feed herself, but when she was with us, she often worked very hard to put her own fork to her mouth, even if it took a long time. She communicated mainly through reaction in her eyes, showing us she’s following conversations and jokes, memories and stories. However, she oscillated with how much she would speak in words. She was usually able to indicate yes and no, but no matter what, whether she was having a “good” day or not, she would always tell us she loved us so much. And she can still sing along to the songs that are in her heart — Billy Joel, the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, Raffi, and countless others.

Here’s a quick funny story: one of our last days, Michelle wanted to give Connie an exfoliating facial. After a proper refreshing cleanse, she said “Connie, do you want to do the mask?”

Mom said, “Are you going to do it?” which of course Michelle would join her with this ridiculous looking thing that made you look like Mrs. Doubtfire with the shaving cream.

Mom said with a smile, “okay, I’ll do it if you’re going to do it.” The whole exchange indicated her sense of humor and planning and thought process. It was very adorable, and it filled us up with tears and laughter. And she looked about 3 years younger, I swear.

**exfoliation and cleanse, before the mask**

Okay, onto July:

When we were there, between manual labor from Jake, Mia, and me (and a little bonus work from the folks at Little York Lake Plantation), the landscaping at Dad’s house looks spectacular. Dad’s garage is clean (or at least organized and manageable). These projects freed Dad up to focus on a some new big horizons for Connie.

Since we’ve left, he’s established a wheelchair accessible sidewalk to take Connie to the backyard and back into their house. Of course he needed a way to get her there. So he bought a fully rigged up transport vehicle, too.

**Dad’s new rig for road trips with mom**

As of yesterday, Connie returned home for the first time since her initial emergency. It’s a massive step forward to bring her happiness and helping her feel herself again.

Dad told us, “I just said, hey Connie, you want to go home and hang out until the lights turn on in the back yard?” And they both welled up and spilled out. He rolled her up into the new car for the maiden voyage. When they got home, they sat out back with some of their best friends all afternoon into the dark. Her dogs were overjoyed to see her home.

Of course this isn’t an at-home care situation. She’ll continue to return to the care of Cortland Park in the evenings. But this is a whole new paradigm for both Mom and Dad. This is a single step towards normalcy. Mom’s vocabulary and sense of self is leaps and bounds more than at earlier stages in her recovery. Sometimes it ebbs more than it flows. But there is no question that she further along than the last time I wrote here.

I encourage all of you to connect with dad; Find out when he’s having a backyard hang with Mom, and go enjoy a summer afternoon together like it’s always been.

More to come.

Love Luka

UPDATE JULY 31

Okay, onto July:

Update April 2