To the neighborhood, the community who never made us walk through Harmony’s cancer journey alone.
For the meals cooked and delivered.
For the gift cards.
For the cash.
The gifts of love.
For the airline flights for far flung treatment.
For the fundraisers. The artists, musicians, the eateries.
Neighbors, friends, strangers who became friends.
Strangers who paid for breakfast for the family of the girl with no hair.
The doctors who tried their hardest. The nurses who lit up when they came into Harmony’s room.
The lead pediatric oncologist, with whom i sometimes quarreled, who came in and kissed Harmony’s sweet forehead moments after she left her body.
The reiki practitioners. The bringers of love and favors.
The therapy dogs, lifters of spirits.
For Harmony’s young friends, wise and caring souls, who walked with their friend and lit a path of darkness.
Make A Wish, who granted Harmony’s wish, and then made an incredibly meaningful wish come true when the first wish was impossible.
Porcelain, for making the wish happen. You are a big hearted man.
My day job, for being supporting and understanding.
My publisher, and the world of middle grade literature, for being loving and generous.
People on airplanes moving seats so family of the sick girl could sit together.
For the gift of being with you as you took your last breaths, for all of your little family being able to pour our love to you as the end approached.
For raising your eyebrows dramatically to show us you heard our words.
For squeezing our hands.
For being beautiful and brave, even joyful, at the end.
For carrying me during your difficult journey.
For death, the second greatest teacher.
And Harmony, the greatest.
For 9 years and 8 months of your beauty, your silliness, your kindness, your strength, and ultimately your courage as you stepped into the unknown.
Thank you for choosing us to share your life with.
Thank you for shining above us.
Thank you, my beautiful spirit animal.
I love you, Harmony.
I dedicate my days to you.