My nephew, Jackson, was somewhat hampered this morning in his efforts to convince us to take him out to breakfast. It's not that we didn't understand him. "Come," he said, repeatedly, "Let's go. Blue Cakes!" We knew perfectly well that he was trying to say "Blueberry Pancakes." The fact that he was standing in the hamper when he said it didn't phase us, either. It was that it was 6:00 a.m. and no one felt like moving. That is, until my father announced that he felt up to it ... and that's when I knew that nothing was going to hamper his recovery. So, the six of us -- my parents, my sister and brother-in-law, Jackson and I -- waited until a slightly more reasonable hour and headed off to Bistro 45 in North Attleboro, Massachusetts where Jackson enjoyed his Blueberry Pancakes and I enjoyed watching my father continue to regain his strength. Thank you all, again, for your good wishes. I returned home to California today, secure in the knowledge that my father is on the road to recovery and that the power of positive thinking -- and a "Blue Cake" or two -- will help keep him there.