Today I got my second dose of the Moderna COVID vaccine — and more importantly my mom and my brother Michael got their second doses on Monday.

You’ve probably heard a lot of people talk about “protecting the most vulnerable” from COVID — that’s been my life for the last year

My brother was born with lissencephaly — he can’t walk, talk, or use the bathroom, and takes feedings through a G-tube. Most cases of lissencephaly succumb to pneumonia in the first 10 years of life (Michael is almost 30!)

Which means COVID was our family’s worst nightmare.

Michael hasn’t been to his day program since March 5th — 343 days ago. Our family has been as locked-down as possible since then as well.

But my mom has to work to support herself, and Michael needs round-the-clock supervision, so lockdown can only be so air-tight

Michael has 4 caregivers (including me & my mom) who see him regularly and up-close. He can’t socially distance, and he can’t wear a mask (though we all do).

I’ve known since this began that it would be a miracle if we made it COVID-free until a vaccine.

And yet here we are.

343 days later, Michael and the people who see him most all have received the vaccine, and I cannot put into words the immense, overcoming relief that makes me feel.

But, naturally, we’re not out of the woods yet.

My mom continues to work her retail job throughout this pandemic to support herself (bills still need to be paid). Michael’s other caregivers still have to shop for groceries. And even though I can do a lot of my job remotely, I too have to go out into the world on occasion.

All these things have caused us so much stress for the last year — because all of these things carried the risk of bringing COVID home to Michael.

Folks not taking this seriously have especially broken my heart over the last year, because their apathy has put my brother at risk

This year has been the worst of my life. We buried my father, we buried my uncle, and we did everything in our power to keep my brother safe from a virus that for *him* has a 100% fatality rate.

But today I finally feel like I can see the light at the end of this tunnel.

So, when you put your mask on tomorrow or you opt for take-out instead of dine-in, I hope you think of my brother and everyone else who’s gotten their vaccine — your consideration has by some small measure has helped make it through this year. And I thank you for that.

We’re going to keep being a *bit* more cautious than most — we don’t really have a choice. Masks, avoiding crowds, working from home, the works.

But at least now I can sleep a little bit easier at night.

I hope you’ll also choose to be safe — for you, for people you know, and perhaps most importantly for people you *don’t* know.

And also: get the vaccine as soon as you’re allowed! (Check your state department of health for when and how).