We’ve had a busy few weeks since I’ve been back from London, punctuated by events at school, doctors trips and socializing with friends.

We had a frenetic 2 hours at Charlotte’s school last Thursday night, rushing from classroom to classroom for 10-minute classes which reflected (in a condensed version) what her sixth grade day is like.  It was a great pleasure to meet all of Charlotte’s teachers and to see old friends.  She is in a few classes with some kids who have been her classmates since the 2-year old nursery school class and I imagine will continue to be with them through high school.

On Saturday, we were joined by about 20 families from the Nassau County Mothers of Twins Club for their annual picnic which we’ve hosted at our house for three years.  We were so lucky with the nice weather and it was a lot of fun for Mary Elizabeth to see old friends and to meet new ones.  There was something a little surreal to see so many pairs of twins (many dressed alike) running around.  Everybody had a good time, with my daughters helping out at the crafts table and my son wheeling little ones around the yard in a cart.  More than a few parents thanked us for providing what would undoubtedly be a good night’s sleep for their kids that night!

And on Monday, I took the day off from work to accompany Mary Elizabeth to her physical and speech therapies and then into the city for another doctor’s appointment.  While her physical progress seems to be slowing down a little, I think that Mary Elizabeth continues to make strides when it comes to her speech.  Her recall of words (when prompted) is getting much better, and the speech therapists confirmed that.  Those of you who have seen her recently have probably noticed that her speech is a little more facile and she is able to express herself with more eloquence and has started to challenge those in her Aphasia group with more and more sophisticated vocabulary words.

As we move closer to the year anniversary of Mary Elizabeth’s illness, I’m struck by the phases we’ve moved through during recovery and how our perspective and outlook continues to evolve.

In the beginning, when Mary Elizabeth was acutely ill and we were still in London, we were all focused on her being well enough to travel back to the states.  We were in constant contact with people through the blog and usually had about 500 hits a day.  After we came back to the U.S. and settled into a more gradual recovery at home, we’ve begun to quietly adapt to a new rhythm of life.  I think we’ve all changed as we adjust to new roles and responsibilities, and the reality with which we’re faced – perhaps now for the longer term.

I personally have gone through a number of changes.  I’ve mentioned before how our time in London, while harrowing in many ways, was perhaps a little easier and more manageable – thanks largely to the fact that Mary Elizabeth was cared for 24/7 in the hospital, giving me the exclusive luxury of being the tender, doting husband.  Many months later, I’m still the tender, doting husband (I hope) as well as father of three, son-in-law, full-time employee and chief bottle-washer.  All of which I gladly take on, but all of which makes life a little more challenging.

And as profoundly thankful as I am that she survived and continues to recover, I struggle.

During most of the summer, I couldn’t think about the way she looked, or sounded or felt before the stroke without becoming tearful, and purposely avoided those thoughts.  I felt a profound grief at what was for all intents and purposes the loss of a spouse.  At the same time however, she was still there.  So I was experiencing the weird paradox of mourning the loss of somebody who’s still very much alive.

Of course what’s happening now is that I’m learning to cherish – in a different way – the new Mary Elizabeth.  Don’t get me wrong – in many ways she’s the same, and to the occasional visitor can seem exactly the same, aside from the obvious physical impact of the strokes.  But as her husband, I am seeing some profound changes in Mary Elizabeth – some amazing ones and some challenging ones.

The good news is that my love for her is as deep and abiding as it ever was – perhaps made more intense now by the added responsibility of taking care of somebody who is largely helpless.  I am more protective of her now, more worried about her health and well-being.  At the same time, I am also focused on our children, struggling to make sure that their needs are being met and that their shared childhood still contains the magic that it should, and that I am as accessible to them as ever – more so even than before.

So the keen sense of loss I feel is gradually being replaced with an acknowledgement of where we are now – and the joy in being here – today, in this moment.  Because if this experience has taught us anything, it’s that life can change in an instant and that we must appreciate what we have, when we have it rather than rue the loss of something that’s gone.

Sorry, that’s a lot of philosophizing and I hope it makes sense.  I should mention that I am still so grateful for the continued good wishes, thoughts and prayers which come our way.  We would not be here if it were not for you.