Back in May, we spent a weekend in Nashville.
On the surface, it was a simple trip. We wanted to get away for a couple of days, eat some good food, spend some time at the zoo, check out a playground, and, most importantly, visit Ms. Taylor.
Or I guess now it can just be “Taylor”?
Before moving to Nashville toward the end of last year, Taylor had been, by far, Harrison’s longest-tenured therapist. She saw him more than anyone after Jenna and me. She spent countless hours working with him, encouraging him, pushing him, and celebrating the little victories that most people never got to witness.
She’s one of those special people. (I really need to come up with a team name or something)
I’ll also admit to something: As excited as I was for the trip, more so for both Jenna and Harrison, I was a little apprehensive.
Jenna had spent years taking Harrison to therapy. She and Taylor had their rhythm. Their conversations. Their inside jokes. Their way of working together while trying to convince a stubborn little boy to do just one more thing.
With all that time together, I figured I’d probably be the odd man out.
I didn’t want to be the third wheel. I didn’t want to make things awkward. I honestly wasn’t sure where I would fit into their dynamic.
I even voiced it, albeit jokingly, a few different times, wanting to make sure all parties involved were good with my involvement.
And if I’m being completely honest, I was slightly worried about Harrison, too.
Our son can hold a grudge. (I’m only half joking.)
Taylor had moved away. Harrison hadn’t seen her in months. There was a part of me that wondered if he’d decide he was going to be mad about that.
Thankfully, every bit of that worry disappeared within minutes.
Taylor was kind enough to let us stay with her while we were there. She had an extra bedroom, and from the moment we walked in, everything just…clicked.
Our first stop after getting settled was Cledis, a burger place that was within walking distance of Taylor’s apartment.
I don’t think she realized she’d already picked my favorite place we’d eat all weekend.
The place was straight out of the ’80s.
Vintage toys, retro decorations, a stack of old televisions playing Looney Tunes, and exquisite restroom decor.
I even spotted an old Pee-wee Herman doll that instantly unlocked memories I hadn’t thought about in thirty years.
The atmosphere was incredible.
Harrison loved it and was smiling the entire time.
The burger? Even better!
I swear I blinked, and somehow my food had already disappeared.
It was just…good.
Harrison (thankfully) started warming up to Taylor while we were eating. However, once we made it back to her apartment, that’s when the switch really flipped.
It didn’t take long for him to realize this wasn’t some ploy to get him into a therapy session. We were just visiting and spending time with Ms. Taylor. After hanging out on the couch for just a bit, Harrison was going in to try and get a few snuggles in between walking around and being nosey. (Giving Taylor her first taste of this new, more mobile Harrison.)
This also allowed Taylor to see Harrison walking barefoot for the first time, which arguably may or may not have broken her brain a little. (It still does us at times)
Good food. Good company. A relaxed evening.
The perfect way to start the weekend.
Saturday morning brought what we’d really been looking forward to after seeing Taylor: The Nashville Zoo.
We almost didn’t make it, though. The forecast had looked rough all week leading up, but somehow we managed to dodge almost every raindrop in the area. Outside of one quick shower, the weather cooperated just enough to let us enjoy the day.
One of the first places we headed once we were inside the gates wasn’t an animal exhibit at all.
It was the inclusive playground.
Taylor had told us about it beforehand, and after looking it up, we knew we wanted to see it.
It absolutely lived up to everything we’d hoped. There were pieces of equipment Harrison had never experienced before. There were things designed with kids like him in mind.
There was a rolling slide, ramps, and hills that he was able to navigate on his own, spinning seats, and one feature in particular that quickly became his favorite: The zipline.
Watching him light up completely never gets old.
He played. He smiled. He explored.
And somewhere along the way, poor Taylor proved that therapists can never completely turn therapist mode off, which was funny to watch as she was still experiencing this new Harrison, who was all over the place.
Eventually, we ventured away from the playground and into the rest of the zoo.
We brought Harrison’s wheelchair with us, and this was exactly the type of day we’d imagined when we fought so hard to get it. Taylor, fittingly enough, had also been instrumental in helping us take those initial steps toward getting one.
Harrison’s wheelchair is not meant as a replacement for him walking. We don’t see it as something to constantly rely on, but simply another tool in our arsenal. It is a way to let Harrison walk when he wants to and ride when he needs a break. It allows him to continue to enjoy his day without wearing himself out too quickly.
This was really our first time using it in a scenario we had envisioned it for, and it worked beautifully.
He’d walk for a while. Then ride. Then walk again. He could be carried for a bit if he wanted. Ride on someone’s shoulders for a bit, but then he’d go back to his chair. Rarely did we ever even need much negotiating.
Thankfully, he enjoys being in his wheelchair as he can see around, is freer to take in his surroundings, and gets to experience so much more than when he is concentrating on walking alone.
He got to stop and listen to the Gibbons. Sit and look at the jellyfish. Take his time around the kangaroos, watch a bear take a dip, and take in watching the monkeys.
Instead of spending all his energy just getting from one place to another, he actually got to enjoy being there.
Then came arguably the highlight of the visit.
There was a rope bridge.
Not exactly something you’d picture a little boy with Arthrogryposis, club feet, and everything else Harrison has going on confidently walking across.
But Harrison did.
Under his own power, and without hesitation.
He carefully worked his way across, one step at a time, arguably with a bit more confidence than he needed.
As incredible as it was for Jenna and me to witness, I honestly think the best part was that Taylor got to see it.
The last time she’d seen Harrison had been just before his surgery that previous fall.
She’d never seen him walking barefoot.
She’d never seen him bending his knees as he does now.
She’d never seen this version of him.
She’d never seen him moving with the confidence he’d worked so hard to build. Something that, again, she’d had a massive hand in.
Outside of Dr. Hyer performing the surgeries, I don’t think anyone has had a greater impact on Harrison becoming the little boy he is today than Taylor.
She spent years helping him find strength.
Helping him find balance.
Helping him build confidence.
Helping him discover what he was capable of.
So watching her get to witness what all of those years of work had become, that was special.
Not because she needed validation or because we needed someone else to witness it.
But because she’d earned the opportunity to see it.
More than anyone, she deserved that moment.
After the zoo, we continued our pattern of good food: Edley’s Bar-B-Que and, to cap off the afternoon, Wanna Spoon Cereal Bar Ice Cream Shop.
After we made it back to Taylor’s apartment, we ended the day exactly how Harrison would’ve chosen.
In the pool.
If you’ve ever spent any time around Harrison in the water, you know it’s his happy place.
There are smiles, and then there are Harrison’s swimming smiles.
They’re different. Something changes when he’s in the water.
He’s fearless.
He walks to the edge of the pool. He jumps without hesitation. Zero fear or hesitation of going underwater. He holds his breath like a seasoned pro.
He kicks. He splashes. He does it all, and hardly ever stops smiling.
There is a level of joy in him that’s hard to describe unless you’ve seen it for yourself.
And once again…Taylor got to see another side of Harrison she’d never had the chance to experience before.
She got to hang out in the pool with him. Not as his therapist, but as his friend.
He recognized that distinction and embraced it completely. (Of course he did, he was in the water!)
Plus, Taylor’s apartment building’s pool? Amazing view! It was all just an awesome way to wind down after all we had done earlier in the day.
Sunday morning, we wrapped up the weekend with brunch at Ruby Sunshine before making the drive back to Kentucky. Just a nice, simple way to cap off the visit, with Harrison consuming all the powdered sugar-covered carbs (pancakes) he could handle.
Taylor, always comfortable with Harrison, showed it throughout the entire weekend, including at brunch, where she would instinctively help with him or simply pick him up when Jenna and I both had our hands full. No doubt getting a couple of extra squeezes and cuddles in there, too.
It would’ve been easy to call it a successful weekend because of the zoo, or the food, or simply getting away for a couple of days.
But somewhere on the drive home, I realized those weren’t the reasons it had felt so different.
There was something else.
Something I didn’t fully recognize until we were already headed home.
And once I realized it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
It’s one of the reasons this post has sat unfinished for nearly 2 months.
It’s also the reason there’s another story that still needs to be told. Because while we’ve always known Taylor was a rare and special person in Harrison’s life, I think we’re only now beginning to realize just how rare and special she is to all three of us.
The type of person who lightens the world around us, and the weight on our shoulders, without doing anything beyond just being herself.
When we were headed down to Nashville, I was going with guarded optimism simply because this was the type of trip or weekend getaway we had never taken with Harrison. I didn’t know what to expect. Coming back home, I found myself already looking forward to the next time we’re able to visit Nashville.
