801 Days Later

Gold Can Stay

For the last two years, two months, and nine days, the first and most important task we have had to accomplish before our now-eight-year-old son Edgar started his day, indeed before we started ours, was to ensure his anti-seizure medicine–and, for a long time, medicines–had been administered.  It was a daily and vital ritual comprised of equal parts science and faith–that the process, these at times varying and ever-evolving concoctions, would stop his seizures, would relegate epilepsy to something merely in the background.

IMG_4860But this morning, as my small warrior sleeps, I find myself thinking about the profundity of this moment–how, when he wakes up during this Christmas vacation, he can play unencumbered and without interruption.  I don’t need to find him among a tangle of stuffed animals or follow him as he navigates his playroom to ensure he takes every last bit of his medicine.  Instead he can do simply and justly…

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