Today was a day painted with delicate strokes of normalcy and peace. It was a rare treasure, especially on the eve of another medical operation for our brave little warrior.

In his resilient spirit, Owen showcased a blend of curiosity and caution—a dance of emotions, reflecting his journey with the port implanted in his chest. This tiny medical marvel, now a part of him, brings forth a mix of wonder and worry. His little hands, at times, would cautiously explore the vicinity of the implant, a silent testament to his bravery and the unspoken questions lingering in his innocent eyes. The absence of bandages revealed the healing wounds and the strength of a soul too young to comprehend the battles it's enlisted in.

The day unfolded with Owen immersing himself in the simple joys of childhood—playing, laughing, and wandering through the familiar corridors of our home with his mother by his side, embodying the unwavering pillar of love and care. Dad was caught in the whirlwind of work, an attempt to tether normalcy in our storm-tossed lives. Yet, the highlight was the visit from Nana, whose presence brought an air of solace and joy. Her prayers and good wishes, echoing through our home, were like gentle waves soothing the shores of our anxious hearts.

Our hearts swell with gratitude for the outpouring of support and kindness from all corners of our lives. Each message, prayer, and wish sent our way fuels our spirits and strengthens our resolve. In these moments of collective hope and unwavering faith, we find the courage to face the unknown and write daily entries into this journal of our lives, a testament to our journey, our fears, our love, and our unbreakable bond as a family.

Tomorrow looms over us for Owen's fourth spinal fluid chemotherapy operation. This intricate dance with science and faith aims to outmaneuver the shadows lurking within, a testament to the advancements in medical science and the resilience of the human spirit. Intrathecal chemotherapy, while a beacon of hope, is a path fraught with challenges, especially for one as young and spirited as Owen. Yet, our journey to Portland is marked not by the miles but by the collective hope and prayers accompanying us, a silent convoy of strength and support.

As Owen rests tonight, on the brink of another battle in his young life, we stand united as a family, fortified by love and the countless good wishes that have become our armor. Tomorrow, we step into the hospital, not just as patients or bystanders but as warriors armed with hope, love, and the unyielding belief in miracles.

In these moments, captured within the pages of our journal, lies the essence of our journey—raw, honest, and resonant with the heartbeat of a family fighting not just for survival but for moments of unadulterated joy and togetherness.