Dad was very restless today. He tried to ask all sorts of questions, but due to the ventilator tube and the drugs, we had a very difficult time understanding him. It must be incredibly frustrating for him. When he is able to get his point across, though, he lets everyone know how happy he is. At one point he kept lifting his arms, which were fastened to the bed to prevent him from tugging at the ventilator tube. After a few minutes of trying to decipher his hand gestures, we finally guessed that he just wanted us to unfasten the ties on his arms. As soon as we did, he lifted both arms as high as he could and stretched them out. He smiled, gave his signature thumbs-up sign, and then he even did a little dance with his hands!
The respiratory specialist did a spontaneous breathing trial with him today. Essentially, they remove all ventilator support for thirty minutes and they observe how well he breathes on his own. He performed wonderfully. It won't be long before they can permanently remove the breathing tube.
During the breathing trial, Dad's mom (we call her 'Gabby') started singing old-timey love songs to him. In that moment, I saw my father as a son. I doubt I'll ever forget the sacred feeling of perceiving the connection between them as she sang her encouragement to her son, and I knew from his eyes that it was working. It reminded me of many times with my own mother, and the thought that I'll never have that experience again was replaced with the thought that, yes, I will have that experience again, but in a very different way.
I apologize if I'm getting too sentimental. I try to stick to the facts, but sometimes the facts are pretty beautiful.