Page 115 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

His movements are smoother now.

Not perfect. He’s still careful when he reaches with his left arm. Still protective without realizing it. But the hesitation that once accompanied every motion is beginning to disappear.

Confidence is slowly returning. Exactly the way it should.

"Any problems after Monday?"

He thinks for a moment. "A little stiffness yesterday morning."

"How long?"

"Ten minutes."

"Pain?"

"Two out of ten."

I glance up from the chart.

"That's an improvement."

"It is?"

"It used to take almost an hour."

He blinks. "I didn't notice."

"That's because you've stopped measuring recovery by the bad days."

I smile.

"You're starting to measure it by your life."

He considers that. "I guess I am."

"That's a good sign."

"It is?"

"It means you're healing."

Not just the shoulder. I don't say the second part aloud. We're not there yet.

"Let's see what you've got."

Jamie stands near the wall marker we've used every session for weeks.

The first time he reached for it, his fingertips barely cleared shoulder height.

Today he rolls his shoulders once, settles his posture, and lifts his arm with quiet concentration.

No rushing. No grimacing. No determination to prove something. Just steady movement, higher until his fingertips brush the next blue line.

Then...just a little farther.

"Hold."

He does. I step closer with the goniometer, checking the angle twice before writing the number in his chart. I look back at him, he asks, "Well?"