It was autumn in Sogenchi Teien Japanese Garden, Kyoto, Japan.

I've been waiting to write this story until the time is right. Now is that time. You may have noticed that my writing has changed from musings about life and whacky stuff to more of a travel blog. For the past few months, I've been leaning on my trip to South Korea and Japan. Those stories are fun to write and remind my wife and me why we love traveling. They are also easy stories to tell that don't need much research or mental effort. So why the change? I will explain.

This is the hard part, where I tell you what really happened. It's the stuff nobody wants to talk about, and most of us do our best to avoid. Me included. Shortly after returning from Asia last fall, my wife was diagnosed with cancer.   

There. I said it. The word I hate so much.   

I won't go into the ugly details. If you have traveled the cancer journey, you know what it's all about. If you only know about it in passing, consider yourself lucky. In any case, we have a lot of work to do to get my wife healthy again.    

As for my stories, it was all I could do last week to publish the photos I had been working on, let alone tell a story. The week before wasn't much better. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. As much as I love my work, photography and writing, I have moved it to the back burner for now.    

As exhausted as I was, I can tell you my wife was even more so. Exhausted doesn't even begin to describe how wiped out she was. There is no way to understand how draining the experience of a cancer diagnosis and treatment can be. Without experiencing it first hand, there is no way to imagine it.    

It has taken me a while to realize that I can't continue my work and provide the support my wife deserves. I thought I could do both—I can't. And that's okay. It's a privilege to be able to put work aside and focus on what's important: My wife's well-being. Not everyone is so lucky.   

If you are wondering, she has a sarcoma—LMS, to be exact. If you know about sarcomas, I don't need to say any more. It's ugly and unrelenting. If this has touched your life and you want to reach out, you can reply to this email. I respond to everyone who reaches out to me.   

I'm not going away completely. I will continue to practice photography. I'm not sure where to publish the photos I complete. Possibly, I'll publish some photos here, I don't know for sure. Also, I'll publish a story or essay to my email list and Medium when I can.    

Oh, and the "2045 is the goal!" title. That's my new mantra. In 2045, my wife and I will be in our early eighties. We figure it's the right age to slow down and take it a little easier. That's where we've had our sights set for the longest time. Twenty more years of living our fantastic lives doesn't seem unreasonable. That was the plan; let's try to see it through.   

As I always say to you, "Thank you for being here, otherwise I couldn't do what I do." I mean that. Without an audience, an artist is unknown. Thank you for knowing me.

The natural and man-made blend beautifully in a well designed Japanese garden.

I wonder what is down that path? It was roped off, so I didn't find out.