We went to Edda’s IEP meeting today. This is a whole new team working with Edda as she transitioned to middle school (I think they are the Pumas, you can see the cat in the background of the photo. Or maybe they are the bobcats). Edda is well these days, very happy and very healthy. I know in many ways, I’m lucky. Edda is not sick very often, she has a lot of people who love her and want to spend time with her, we have enough resources to find good care for Edda – all these things are good. Edda has brought people into my life who are so meaningful to me and, in turn, I’m always trying to pay it forward – to be patient, to show compassion and kindness to the people I interact with and my life and heart is fuller because of it all. But it doesn’t mean that in the middle of the meeting, when the OT is talking about how wonderful it is that Edda kind of will let them hold a paintbrush in her hand and do a few brush strokes on a paper or how she’s still trying to touch pictures to answer simple questions, I don’t get a hitch in my voice when I’m trying to sound happy and encouraged. I’m mainly happy and encouraged, but sometimes I’m not.