She has less than a week of school left and she is already talking about what she aims to accomplish in third grade. She is doing so much better in her studies. For the first time in years she is able to recall the lyrics to songs and recognize letter forms. She wants to read so badly, and she works at it every day. When she doesn’t speak of school and reading she waxes on about going to Paris, which we plan to do in 2009.

Jordan’s Feet – A Testament She’s had a good week – still flittering on the news of her MRI. She won a Spotlight award at school for her improved academic progress and her good attitude. Chemo sapped her energy early in the week, but she’s back in full swing for the weekend.

We ride together in my Jeep. She sits shotgun. The stereo blasts 70’s classics, most of which we ignore as ambient background. She chatters incessantly; something about a trip to the mall, then on to a peacock named Barney. The music changes and we hear the first tinkling chords of Dennis DeYoung’s piano on Styx’s “Come Sail Away.” Jordan cocks her head and ponders the descant for a moment. She tells me how much she likes the piano playing.

Jordan treats herself to a giant hot chocolate with ample whipped cream Her first reaction was to tell everyone. “My cancer is smaller,” she revealed with a mature insouciance. Occasionally, she’d cock her mouth sideways to smile playfully, knowing the response she’d receive from her audience. The acclaim continues to pour in. With each new accolade she is the more imperturbable. She has a charming poise, a certain manner as if to say, “of course, I’m kicking its butt!

Post MRI She just wanted to get out of the hospital. An hour later, she would learn that she was making progress on her journey. She changed her expression.