letting go

Except for a glimmer of hope when Calvin was almost three—before the debilitating, multiple antiepileptic drug cocktails and the regular tonic-clonic (grand mal) seizures—I've never been quite sure the day would come when Calvin would be walking more often without assistance than with it.

Thanks to cannabis for allowing Calvin to cut his benzodiazepine dose in half and for Mary, his awesome one-on-one, who first saw his latent potential for walking independently re-emerge, and for trusting it. In great part because of them we can finally take a deep breath and, even if just a little, start letting go.

Calvin at school the other day with his best buddy, Mary