Well, I'm in single digits now, and I'm so pumped to see Negril again that you have no idea. Over the past two or three years, I've been coming to Jamaica on a regular basis -- every few months, about four to five trips a year -- and I've enduring a pretty long stretch since August.

I miss Negril a bit more every time I leave. If this was a romance, it would surely be love.

I'm looking forward to falling into the waiting arms of the Seastar Inn. I can't wait to get my scooter, to go snorkeling, to see all the sights, to visit all my old friends and hopefully to make a bunch of new ones.

I always say I go to Jamaica to heal, and I'm hurting. My father, whom I've mentioned in past reports of being in ill health, died about a month ago. I was his primary caretaker, visiting regularly in the hospital, and though he was 76, my dad had a lot of life left in him.

His mind was sharp, but his lungs ultimately failed him because of a rare disease that affects the muscles, so the ending was long and drawn-out and difficult. He was always hoping to get better -- we all were -- and that's what made his death particularly sad.

It will be with heavy emotions when I land 'pon the Rock once again, and I plan to cherish every moment. Plus, I'll do everything to feel as alive as possible, so that should make for some good upcoming chapters!

Mi soon come.