I’m sitting here in my living room with my beautiful Brylee watching Signing Time as I drink rum and reminisce on just how good life can be and there are utterly no complaints. Abby sleeps the pure REM of the innocent, mom & better half wander upper nuuanu with the shitzu, My oldest is home, she’s with us, my wife and I resident in our own home concurrently, the pacific breezes drift up from the shore on their way to the mountain to meet their more powerful windward cousins, and even blood cancer can’t dampen my enthusiasm, because we have a good doctor, a good hospital, and a little fighter. I took my 2 year old to the out patient clinic today for blood and platelet transfusions, there from about 9:30 AM until 5 PM, and it felt like a cakewalk down main street. Because we got to go HOME afterwards. This beautiful little soul whom I have been incredibly blessed to have a part in producing is such a magical salve to my soul, as well as to those, I firmly believe, of the brave and mighty soldiers of the pediatric oncology ward of the Kapiolani Medical Center. The nurses and clinical aides and dietary agents and janitors one and all get goodbye and hello kisses and the good vibrations that this little one only two years on the planet, the enthusiasm, the beauty that she shows exists and is right under our noses on this planet, wow, what can you say that hasn’t been said by poets leaps and bounds beyond myself? Nada, surf, and leave it at that. Salud, shalom, sayonara, great, GREAT sandwich. Aloha.