Adam called earlier to let me know that today is the day: Logan is going to be discharged this afternoon. After 50 days in the hospital, he's finally coming home.
This time is different of course, because he's finished with his rigorously brutal treatment protocol, so there's no check-in date on the calendar. We're merely left to pray like mad that he's healed, that the cancer is gone and that it will never, ever return.
The whole idea leaves me breathless and tearful at once. I've used this well-worn cliche before, but I really and truly can't put the emotion into words. I just can't.
I'll leave you with this: As I was straightening some items on the buffet in my dining room a few minutes ago, I spied the stones that my lovely friend Barbara gave me many months ago. There are 10 to 15 of them, and each is imprinted with a word intended for meditation - faith, pray, wisdom, tranquility, gratitude, and the like. What was printed on the two I happened to see? 'Healing' and 'Hope'. How's that for a day like today? Needless to say, I slipped one into each of my pockets and there they'll be as we begin life anew as a complete family.
If I made you cry, I'm sorry; I made myself cry, too.