Thursday, February 03, 2011

It’s been just over two years now since our oldest daughter finished her 6 months of chemotherapy for leukemia (AML). Although I guess she was officially in "remission" after the first few treatments, the completion of the treatment, not having to go through any more cycles of chemo, and her still getting better & better, was the big breakthrough. It’s been a wild two years, a rebirth of sorts for all four of us, myself included, with all kinds of movement to all kinds of places, physical & metaphorical. Transition after transition, forth, back, and then realizing back IS forth. Um, don't ask.

In any event, our first born, who I was so terrified we might lose before she'd even had a proper chance to fight all the challenges she'd already been presented with (she was born with down syndrome), who was SO brave through all the hospitals, and drugs, and poking and prodding, and never stopped emitting this pure joy that affected everyone around her, is doing great. We are so incredibly lucky to have her here with us. Too many people we met during our journey lost their children. Too many relapsed and are fighting the same cancer again that they had thought defeated. Two years. Cancer is not a part of our daily life any more, but it’s always in the background, there’s always another follow appointment to check her “numbers” (although less & less often as time goes by). These days, (KNOCK, KNOCK) her numbers are always good.

Our younger daughter has been through a ton as well, couldn't have been easy all those nights away from Mommy, and hospital visits, barely one year old. We all stuck together like champs, though, I'm proud of all of us; it wasn't easy. Our younger one is such a blessing to the older (and vice versa), giving her (& us) perspective, and guidance, and wisdom, and the most oddly occasional adult sounding pronouncements. They're so different, so alike; we know down the road the former will become more pronounced, and it's a blessing to enjoy (and we learned, enjoy that moment) the beautiful spot in all our lives that we're in now. Speaking of the future, we just signed up the older for kindergarten, which sounds unbelievable. She’ll be 5 in May. The younger 4 in July. They’re getting older, wiser, more calculating in their mischief. Our babies have become big kids. It's fun, scary, exciting, fascinating. You see yourself in them, your spouse in them, and that magic something that makes them them, that is theirs alone, and, well, you marvel at it (er, I do). Love who I'm with, love where I'm at, the mindset is bright "incandescent, even." Life is good.

For fans of the (ir)regulah, don’t worry, tomorrow (or maybe next month/year) there will be more indecipherable gibberish (ie back to your regularly scheduled programming). Or maybe the grecian urn'll stay out of the barn for a few. Call it a mystery, for now. Aloha.

Wednesday, February 02, 2011

Lotta stuff goin down, on, up, to the side, across the street. Add all layers of etcetera you can possible consider. We moved. On up to the eastside. Literally. And it’s made a ton of difference, wowsers, lovin it Maynard. Kay, gonna holla at you wit the real. Nah, kiddin. Starting to remember why I stopped writin crap here. It just comes out like this. Much ado about sumpin, but decipherable only to the few, the just, the strong, residents of trillville condescending on a piece of scenery like they straight blanketed it. Can’t be havin it. Scrappy doo out.