What a perfect way to leave 2025 behind and ring in 2026! 💕

All your prayers, good wishes and love pushed his body over the edge—the donor cells are starting to engraft. Oh happy day! His white blood cells went from .11 to .13 and his neutrophils (infection fighting part of white blood cells) went from “too few to count” to .05 (also counted as 50 depending on which measurement they use). When neutrophils start to climb, no matter how much, that means the donor cells are starting to engraft (move into R’s diseased marrow and start producing healthy cancer-free cells.)

There could be many challenges to his health, even once he’s fully engrafted, but for now, his chance at full remission is HAPPENING!

Our adult kids have been calling him a hero, and he IS! Anyone who goes through this is a true hero of the bravest and boldest kind. We could not be any more proud of him or thankful for this development. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Thank you all!

And now for photos with R in hats, courtesy of AI. We shaved his head a couple of days ago. It has a perfect shape!

A CONTINUATION OF OUR LONG AND UNLIKELY LOVE STORY. Those not interested, avert your eyes now!

I left off saying that R left for a French program in Grenoble, France at the height of my overwhelming certainty that one day we would be married and have babies together. 😂

I was 15. He was 19. The only reason he knew of my undying love was because I sent him off with a letter professing it and small white box containing a gold charm “the key to my heart.”

Of course, my strict Mexican-American parents knew nothing of this. Had they known, they would have moved us to a remote village to eat llama and play the pan flute and make gorgeous textiles high up in the Andes.

R wrote back something like, “Hi. My dorm room is small. Started classes. Bought a moped so my friend J and I can do some exploring. Sincerely, R”

CLASSES? MOPED? SINCERELY? ARE YOU KIDDING? I was crushed. Mortified. Flabbergasted. Broken-hearted. Confused???? How could he not love me back?

Maybe because I was 15 and he was 19. At the time, my self-centered, immature teen self did not see this as a barrier. What’s the problem, I wondered. Such a dork. He was trying to avoid a) acknowledging any “feelings” for me, even though he knew he felt something. But what in the heck was he supposed to do with that? Most people would call this a “jail bait” situation. He wuddn’t no dummy!

His strategy? Ignore it and hope it goes away.

7 months passed. I wrote him +|- 100 love letters (slight exaggeration) and his 10 letters included topics such as: exams, hitchhiking Europe, seeing a Bruce Springsteen concert (in Germany? I don’t remember).

By the time he got back home I was pissed.

Then, he showed up at my door…and oh dear Lord…