A beautiful gift

Two days ago, we took Alan to his psychiatrist.  Alan was unusually happy when we arrived to pick him up.  He smiled and laughed.  He grinned when we told jokes.  The happy young man we thought we had lost was right in front of us.

We wanted to soak it in, to milk the experience for all it was worth.  I found myself touching him, smiling, telling him how proud I was of him.  It was as though a window opened and a sweet spring breeze was swirling around us.

At the office, the receptionist asked Alan to "take a seat."  Grinning, he bent over and picked up the small metal chair.  "You mean you want me to take the seat with me?"  He chuckled and then sat down.  "I'm just kidding."

Once we were with the doctor, Alan detailed a delusion that he was so convinced of we didn't try to contradict his thought process.  He was so happy, so positive, it just didn't matter.   The next time we see him he may be angry and upset, which makes days like this sweeter still.

We have read that other Huntington's families say that each day is the best it will ever be.  It's the only way to see the world when you're facing this cruel disease.   We were given a beautiful gift, and we are so thankful.


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