Her doctors expected improvement, but no one could guarantee the exact pace or extent.

We learned to measure progress in ordinary units: walking the length of a hospital hallway, swallowing without discomfort, brushing her own hair, remembering a grocery list.

The day she moved from intensive care to a rehabilitation unit, I brought a small sunflower in a paper cup.

The nurses laughed at the absurdly small plant.

Rachel held it carefully in both hands.

“That thing is going to need a bigger pot,” she said.