It's been one year since Leo had a frontal lobectomy.

One year since the UCLA neuro team gathered in his PICU room and approved him for surgery. They told him how proud they were of him.

One year since we wheeled him through a hospital maze down into what felt like a basement morgue.

One year since we gave him one last squeeze and let strangers take him into an OR and give orders to a robot that would slice into him.

One year since Brian and I walked the UCLA campus for hours, waiting waiting waiting until we got the late-night phone call that surgery couldn't have gone better.

It's been one year, and it's been everything for Leo and for our family. This boy walks, talks, eats, drinks, goes to day care, snuggles, sits on his sisters for horse rides, throws the ball for our dog, points to deer in the yard, says hello to every person we pass on the street and brings us such joy every day. He says "Help me, Mama" and "Sit down, Daddy" and asks for ice cream after breakfast.

One thing Leo doesn't do: HE DOES NOT HAVE SEIZURES.

Leo has been seizure-free for one year — the longest he has ever gone without seizures, ever, in his whole life. The frontal lobectomy saved him. Drs. Nariai and Fallah saved him.

Leo's care continues, as it does for each of our kids, but it no longer feels like life or death. We're no longer in fight or flight. We celebrated tonight with chocolate chip cookies and milk. There is so much to celebrate.