One year.

So it's been about a year since she was diagnosed, and she's still kicking ass.. and taking names- just not at bartime, she's happy with the dude still, yay! The progression has been slow, it can stay that way, really, I don't mind.
I called her up the other day to once again get her voicemail that her friend made for her trying to sound like her. She really needs to change that, it's lame. When she called me back there was The Doors blasting in the background with my little neice Kohna singing along at the top of her lungs. Rock on little one!
A year, damn, time flies. At this time last year I was home visiting, learning about what would be my ultimate decision to move home. She still has no idea that it's really why. Before I had learned about my ovarian cyst and needed surgery I found out about her, and I had actually had a ticket lined up for me to move home in May of last year. Then along came my health shit, then it got pushed back to June. Such is life.
Moving back home and being around the people I love and love me back was probably the best decision I've ever made in my life, of course, it's close to moving away to an island when I was 21, breaking up with someone that I needed to break up with and ending up moving BACK to the island a couple years later, solo, for some self-discovery. Wouldn't change a damn thing for the world.
Back to the matter at hand, damn, one year. There will be plenty more. 11:11, make that wish..