Wednesday, October 31 - I think the vibe all day long has been very positive. Mike is caressing our hands, holding on tight when you say you’re going to leave and I don’t think any of us care if they say it’s involuntary. We feel it, it means something to us. The curtains were open in Mike’s room, the sun shone on his face and it seemed to warm his color. There was life in the room. You could feel it. You could see a renewed, true sense of hope in each person’s eyes that came to see Mike today. “He moved his thumb over mine”, “did you see the strength in his arms as he held on to my hand?”, “his eyes are moving”, “it seems like he’s opening his right eye”. We are like kids on Christmas morning! And then it happened.

End of the evening, around 11pm - Bobby and I were in the room with him. I had been doing a little physical therapy with his feet and ankles, moving up to arms and hands. Mike had been working his fever all day and was pretty sweaty. So, I went to the sink to wet a towel to wipe him off and decided to lift his eyelids to tell him what I was doing. His eyes looked great so I said “Michael, you see me don’t you? Look at me, Mike. Look at me!” He moved his eye and looked straight in to mine. It was amazing. It was like birth. It was life.

I squealed to Bobby “he looked at me!” We all want to believe and hold on to those little things, but we’ve been told often enough that they probably don’t mean a thing. But I don’t care. I know he is there. I know he heard me. I know he moved his finger and his thumb for me. I’m his mother, I felt him there. I know.