the office nurse who offers to help when she sees I’ve got my hands full with a hyperactive kid.
the college kids who walk past and greet me with a smile and a hello.
the employees at the grocer who regularly ask after Calvin.
the teachers and therapists who love my son.
the doctor and the nurse practitioner who rack their brains about how to help Calvin feel better.
the man who walks past every day and gives old Rudy a pat.
the husband who always makes me laugh when I am grumpy.
my in-laws for their love and support.
the thoughtful messages from friends new and old, near and far.
the strangers who smile at me as I hobble past with Calvin.
my girlfriends and boyfriends, to the end of time.
the home healthcare nurse who is kind and gentle and loving to my boy.
the children who ask how Calvin is doing.
the bus driver and the ed techs who seem to feel my pain.
the people who have helped raise funds and awareness to find a cure for epilepsy.
my therapist for validating my emotions.
the college community.
my mom who can still comfort me in my despair.
Charlie and Roger and Herr Doktor and the Diegos—and the scores of others like them—who show deep compassion and understanding for our family and who bring levity into our lives.
the women and men whom I’ve never met but have become kindred spirits nonetheless.
Susan and her colleagues for what they do at CURE.
my boy Calvin who makes me want to be a better person.