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  • Ups and downs, but mostly ups. So it goes crawling, tripping, running, falling, slipping, sliding, getting up and gliding ahead. I feel...very good, and for that I am blessed. As summer stretches into fire season I near +100 days which they tell me means I will live another hundred. Really though one hundred isn't very long. But from that day forward I cannot afford to count the days because it is obvious that days are meant to be vividly lived. Currently I am relearning what this means, only this time with an overflowing thankfulness.

    This life is not mine. I never really knew this. I assumed that I am the one running the show.

    Now I know that my life is yours, hers and his. Anything I do is not mine, but ours.

    Soon it will be one hundred days since his bone marrow became mine. The 2.7, 10.3 and 83,00 are not mine but his. Him being someone I don't even know. He is a 23 year old from somewhere in Europe. This makes him a stranger in a strange land who was strangely willing to undergo a painful procedure to save my life. Me being a stranger to him.

    But they also kept me alive. They are the anonymous blood and platelet donors who gave me life for six months until my transplant. My parents did as well. Then there was them, my community. Also, my nurses, aids, maids and such. And of course there was her, my wife who slept night after night with mask and gloves on by my side. Clearly I am not only me.

    Ubuntu.

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