The Best Part of You

For the past few weeks I've been working on a poem that I believe encapsulates my feelings of thankfulness to all of the amazing people who make my world go 'round. Since I don't drive because of my seizures, I find myself constantly at other people's mercy, and I won't lie: it is infuriating. It is a terrible feeling and one I try to avoid as often as I can.

But I've lived this way now for many years, and I've tried hard to find the good in my situation-- to find the helpers, as Mr. Rogers would say. I have been blessed with such great people, but I don't think I'd know them the way I do if I didn't really need to. If I didn't really need them.

So, here is the poem. You know who you are, and you are wonderful. Happy Thanksgiving.

The Best Part of You

I know that
daffodil in the snow part
of you, that
shiny penny on the path part
of you

You stop everything to
pick up my kids
to take me to work
to the doctor
the store
the pool
the library

You drive me home
yet again
you pile muddy baseball boys in your
extra seats—smells like death
but you laugh,
a soft laugh of knowing
of caring
of giving

You teach my class for me you hold me
while I shake you carry me when I can’t
walk myself you let me cry

You change plans to drive me
when it rains or snows
you get blood in your car so my
son can get stitches

I see the light in you I see
the warm, glowing goodness
others never get to know
because they don’t need you
like I do

I’m thankful that

I get to see the best part of you

Fall time shenanigans