It was a tough time. My father in law was in a rehab center. Jennifer had both of us in bad states. On this day I started to write. How else could I relearn how to write? And so I did. In three weeks I filled up 100 pages of progressively better handwriting. One thing I did not do was watch TV. OK, I did watch one PBS documentary and one movie. But I couldn’t take it. I wrote instead. And spent time with Mom, and Cheryl mostly. Other relatives also came by. But mostly I wrote. And thought about what was ahead.
You have to start someplace.
I am stroke-free and proud, yet my handwriting is significantly less legible than this here. Great work amigo. Here’s to one more year, then one after that, and so on.