"Autumn... the year's last, loveliest smile."

Fall, to me, is the most beautiful, bittersweet season and that is my favorite fall quote, attributed to William Cullen. I find it especially fitting for today because I'm writing to tell you about our year's last, loveliest smile. We journeyed back to Seattle Children's Hospital this past weekend to see Grayson's surgery team for his one-year post-op evaluation.  We hoped it would be the end of our cranio journey for now, and wanted to celebrate by making a family weekend out of it.  As I've said before, I'm one who never passes up an opportunity to celebrate.  It's been over six months since we've been back and although we couldn't be guaranteed good news, we were so happy and thankful for Grayson's recovery this past year and we sure weren't going to waste a weekend together running errands when we could be exploring!

We started out on Saturday morning and drove the first three and a half hours to the "Bavarian" town of Leavenworth.  They were celebrating Oktoberfest that weekend, so our timing was perfect.  This may be the last year we can dress Grayson as we please before he has an Opinion about it, so of course we took advantage of this and dressed him in his Uncle Charlie's authentic German lederhosen. He was quite a hit with everyone else who was dressed up that day, and I held Grayson as we danced and twirled together in the town square to an oompah band playing what I didn't realize was an old Bavarian traditional song... The Chicken Dance. Grayson is pretty lucky that our camera died at that point, because I wouldn't be able to stop myself from re-screening that spectacle to his future girlfriend someday - popcorn and all.  Grayson's favorite part about Leavenworth was practicing his new skill (jumping with both feet, off the curb) all over town.  I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.  I'll admit, it is quite the feat of balance and coordination when you think about it, it's no wonder he was so proud of himself.  At sunset, we followed a trail through Waterfront Park until it got chilly and then headed to our hotel for the evening, but not before we all splurged on our favorite drinks at Red Robin in Wenatchee - I had a chocolate shake, Josh had a Mac & Jack, and Grayson had a pediasure.  One of these days, that kid is going to eat real food and realize he's been missing out!

The next morning, we drove the remaining 150 miles to Seattle.  It really is eerie, and yet beautiful, when you cross over Snoqualmie Pass and the atmosphere changes. I can see why they filmed Twilight out here. We quite suddenly drove into what looked like a dense foggy area, with clouds so low you could touch them. We stopped in North Bend before we hit the city, so we could hike the Twin Falls trail.  It was a bit colder than we expected, and so Grayson wanted to cuddle more than he wanted to sit in the Kelty hiking carrier.  If this is a blog entry about things we're doing for the last time, I'm going to add hiking with Grayson in the Kelty.  Twenty-six pounds is about what I gained when I was pregnant with Grayson, but it sure feels a lot heavier when it's bouncing on your back and shoving cheerios in your mouth with wet fingers.  Once he warmed up a bit in my arms, he wanted to walk and I was more than happy to let him (helicopter mom as always lest he fall over the 150 foot cascade of water on one side of the trail).
Truthfully, my favorite part was when he wanted me to carry him in my arms as we walked along, because most of the time he's not a big cuddler. Even if it felt like hauling 3 gallons of milk in my arms up a muddy incline.  It was a snuggly 3 gallons of milk and it may be the last time I can carry him like that for so long!  Grayson's favorite part of the hike was jumping off every root, rock, and timber step with both feet at the same time.  He's really getting this down. Yes, it takes us four times longer to get anywhere. But his unbridled joy every time he lands squarely on two feet is worth the wait.

After reaching our hotel on Lake Washington, we took Grayson to the Seattle Children's Museum that evening, right before closing (I told you the hike took awhile...). It was getting pretty late, so we fed Grayson and decided to pick up a pizza on our way back to the hotel. Apparently, trying to find a Pizza Hut in Kirkland/Bellevue is like trying to find a Walmart in the Hamptons.  But our scavenger hunt led us right by a Trader Joe's and so by the time we got back to the hotel (an hour later) Josh and I had acquired a bottle of red wine to share as well.  We jumped on the bed, ate our pizza, and soon after, we all fell fast asleep.  It was my favorite night of the whole weekend for sure.

Our appointment the next day at Seattle Children's Hospital was wonderful.  Grayson wore his new shirt, and he was a total hit with his surgeons - they even took pictures!  While Grayson created abstract art on my hands and arms with a blue dry-erase marker, the doctors examined his head and said his bone grafts felt like they had taken well and were successful. His plastic surgeon explained that after reviewing his CT scans again, this was one area he was most interested to see heal, since there was so much "empty" space (bone grafting) on the top of his head right after surgery. Josh and I later talked about how it might be a blessing that Grayson hates food.  Since we supplement his steady diet of cereal and air with daily pediasure, he gets a pretty big dose of calcium and other vitamins everyday. The surgeons also said the big lumps in the middle of his forehead were normal, and will subside with time. The plastic surgeon explained that he needed to use a stronger plate right there in the middle, and so it takes longer to dissolve than the other hardware, which is why we're only seeing that reaction occur now, a whole year after surgery.  The plastic surgeon asked us if a professional cuts his hair, and if they notice his scar. I beamed and said truthfully, "no, nobody ever knows it's there" and although he didn't show it too much, I almost thought I saw a gleam in his eye as well.  It's obvious to me that Grayson's zig-zag scar from ear to ear was meticulously cut and sutured back together so that it would be nearly invisible.  The zigs and zags are so tiny and incredibly well done.
The surgeon didn't have to do it that way (it was probably more time consuming), but he did, and it really speaks highly of him.  I'm always taken aback by how kind, gentle, and personable both his plastic surgeon and neurosurgeon are, and how patient they are to explain things to us and answer all our questions. Talent and personality don't always go hand in hand, but they've got both in spades and we're so grateful they are in our lives. They have to be busy on clinic days, but we never feel rushed. On the way out, we saw Hector in the elevator and waved.  Hector can't know who we are, but he gave us a big smile and waved back.  Hector draws blood for the lab, and he once drew Grayson's blood when he was a baby without Grayson even noticing.  I don't know how they attract and retain talent at Seattle Children's but whatever they're doing, it works.

My one regret is that I didn't get a picture of G-man with his surgeons.  I was too shy to ask, because I didn't want to make them uncomfortable - not everyone wants to be photographed.  But I do regret it.  I'd like to show him that picture someday, and for him to know the kind faces of the people that we trusted with his life and his future, and that helped make him so gosh darn handsome :)  Grayson will be back in one year for a CT scan, so I'll work up the courage to ask them then. It's strange that I had the courage to hand over my first born son so they could cut open his skull a year ago, but I couldn't bring myself to ask them for a photograph.

Every now and then Grayson will say "Ow! Ow!" and smack his forehead.  I imagine the swelling bothers him sometimes, but those times are few and far between, and I know it's temporary. We'll have his "cranioversary" party on Saturday, and there will be 15 of his tiny friends there to help him celebrate.  He doesn't know why we're celebrating, and he won't eat the cake (I've already decided on a "chicks dig scars" theme with tractors and all), but I know he'll love running around with his friends and playing with his cars, trucks, and trains.  It makes us feel like we did something right to see him so happy - oblivious of his ear-to-ear scar, and probably to most of the memories of his recovery one year ago. And that's exactly how it should be.
We all jumped off the ledge with both feet last year.  Eyes shut, holding tight to each other's hands.  And here we find ourselves, on solid ground, standing squarely on both feet.  Looking back at the journey, Josh and I sometimes feel sadness.  We feel heartache that the person we love most in the world had to endure something so traumatic at such an early age.  And we also feel fleeting memories of fear - kind of like the fear you might feel when suddenly remembering a scary dream, before you remember it's not real.  We remember what it felt like to take that leap, and feel nothing but air beneath us.  But most of all... most of all we feel joy.