She’s feeling well enough to sing “Forget You” with Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow. It made the last week feel a lot better!

Slowly, methodically, she is coming back to us. When Luc and I arrived for a visit today we found her reclined in her bed very much engaged in a television program. She was still subdued and laconic, but the dazed, catatonic wanderings that set us worrying are more or less a vestige of yesterday. Today, she held a conversation and seemed quite pleased to be present at a family gathering, no matter that it unfolded in a sixth floor hospital room.

I have a recurring dream. It’s the kind that seems so vivid you tell yourself in your dream that it’s only a dream, but then you don’t wake up and you begin to think (in your dream) that it’s real. This is a dream about Jordan and hope and being a dad. In my dream, it is Jordan’s wedding day and I am not very happy. I grumble that Jordan needs special care.

The slayer is not well. I have little to say. She barely knew I was there when I stopped by to visit. She greeted me with an odd remark about a friend she has not seen in over a year. “She’s been saying that to everyone,” Jeanetted confided. While I stayed with her, Jordan sat in her bed with her arms at her side. She kept staring up at the corner of the room with a crooked smile on her face.