On Choosing a Family

                                                   Photo by White.Rainforest ™︎ ∙ 易雨白林. on Unsplash

While Parkinson's has made me acutely aware of daily minor miracles, it's the people in my life for whom I am deeply grateful. I am thankful, every damn day, for this: I have caregivers. Warren, who hails from Brazil, has become my right-hand man. No facet of my life would be complete or possible without him. Jules, a lovable perfectionist who eats one piece of lettuce at a time, claims to be a vegetarian, but we know better. Leah is under the impression that she knows everything about me including when I should go to bed or the bathroom—adorable. She also makes the best oatmeal in the county, and I'm forever grateful for her support. 

And who can forget the exceptional Susan, a caregiver par excellence? She rubs my back, hugs me and tells me how to live my life. Could a gal ask for anything more? Alia, a hard worker, folds my clothes like a pro and holds my hand when I need to feel loved. And then there's the essential Lexi, my gifted, superlative therapist and her little sister Eden. Eden is savvy when it comes to all-things social media and technology. My hope for her is that she, like me, someday realizes her worth. 

This crew is my chosen family of origin. Perfectly imperfect, I love every one of them.