I always find myself drawn to stories with happy endings, stories that are wrapped up in hope and resilience and the triumph of the human spirit. I’m not sure if this is one of those stories. This is a story about parenting.
My son was born with a glitch in his genes; autosomal dominant, with all the future implications that carries. When they placed him in my arms, seconds after birth, we didn’t know. He was only light and joy. At 5 months of age, he had his first seizure, sitting in a blue Bumbo chair. I remember watching his right arm pulse at his side, in that classic unmistakable pattern. It is the rhythm I hear in my sleep now. The rhythm I watch for in the rearview mirror when he starts to fall asleep. My life is tuned this way, the way your whole being can be tuned to the sound of an instrument that you love. I resonate with him.