Today, despite the overcast skies, our family found reasons to cling to hope and a touch of excitement. We embark on a journey back home tomorrow, a milestone that seemed distant just a few weeks ago.

Melissa and I, the duo that we are, oscillated between feelings of relief and the mild stress of logistics. Our studio hotel here has accumulated many belongings over the last three weeks - a testament to life lived within these temporary walls in all its complexity. But Melissa, ever the strategist in our game of real-life Tetris, assured me with confidence that she somehow always manages to make the impossible seem trivial. "We'll get everything loaded," she said, her determination unyielding.

Owen, our little warrior, seemed to catch onto our uplifted spirits. His usual brightness was a tad more luminous today, fueled by the anticipation of returning to the familiar comforts of home. Yet, the battle scars of his fight with B-cell leukemia—the puffy face and the distended stomach—remind us of the harsh realities of this journey. These physical manifestations of his struggle occasionally cloud his vibrant spirit with shades of sadness and discomfort.

Today didn't bring about new revelations; our routine has become a blend of managing Owen's needs, medical consultations, and finding moments of joy amidst the uncertainty. The day's challenge was logistical - packing our lives from these past weeks into our car. This task, seemingly mundane, took on a significance of its own. Melissa spearheaded the operation, her methodical approach ensuring we were ready for departure without overlooking our immediate needs.                    

The brightest moment of today was undoubtedly Owen's excitement about going home. "I feel better now," he declared, a statement more reflective of his resilience than his physical state. It was a reminder of his incredible spirit, an affirmation that sometimes hope is the best medicine. We chose to ride this wave of positivity, encouraging him and believing in the power of optimism to heal.

Amidst the whirlwind of preparations and emotional highs and lows, a small detail stood out—Owen's determination to walk. It's both inspiring and heart-wrenching to witness. Each attempt is a testament to his enduring spirit, and every fall reminds us of the cruel realities we're fighting against. Yet, in these moments, when he picks himself up to try again, we see our son's true strength.

Today, our hearts are heavy with gratitude. We're thankful for the prayers and support that have bolstered Owen through each chemotherapy session, resulting in a recovery that has even impressed the doctors. The thought of returning home fills us with an indescribable joy, a testament to the power of faith and resilience.

As we look to tomorrow, our hopes are pinned on the chemotherapy session at 1:30. We yearn for labs that show improvement, for signs that Owen is ready, not just in spirit but in health, to leave this phase behind. The prospect of going home is not just a change of scenery; it's a crucial step in Owen's recovery, a much-needed reprieve for our family.

Every day in this journey brings its own challenges and blessings. Today, amidst the gloom of the weather and the complexities of packing up a life temporarily lived in limbo, we found reasons to smile, hope, and look forward to brighter days. Tomorrow holds the promise of home, continued healing, and the simple joys that come from being together as a family.

Our journey with Owen is far from over, but every step we take is closer to victory. As we prepare to leave this temporary haven, we carry with us not just our belongings but a treasure trove of memories—of battles fought, of moments of joy and despair, and of the indomitable spirit of our son, who reminds us every day what it truly means to be brave.

— Owen’s Parents