I had to do it again. I had to drive my little boy to the airport and leave him as he walked onto yet another airplane. As we got close to La Guardia at 7am today he said, “The drive home is going to be sad right Mom?”
I wrote these entries as I prepared to fly to Boise, Idaho to visit Colt for the first time since I had dropped him at Wilderness Jan 10, 2020 and right after arriving but before seeing him. Covid had made a visit impossible and I was giddy with anticipation.
Every so often I try to read the boys ‘body awareness’ books. Nothing too sexy, but just ‘these are your privates, and they are special” kind of jazz. Maybe its the Swede in me, but I am very open with my children about their bodies and the proper names of things etc. Not that I bring it up other than on these periodic occasions, but if they ask I try to answer truthfully (in an age appropriate way of course.)
Here it is. The product of many hours creating just the right thought-provoking questions to ask my 13 year old sex-ed averse child.
Just packing up and heading off for Oscar’s surgery today. Its routine thank god, his second set of tubes and the removal of his adenoids, but he will be intubated and its considered real ‘surgery’ this time.
My meditation today is on re-inhabiting my body. I feel like I have been many things in the past 18 months but almost none of them have entailed a mind-body connection.
Oscar turned a week old today. He had a great night and a terrific morning. His feeds are up to 8cc from 5 yesterday so that’s fantastic. His o2 levels are the best they have been yet and we are heartened. He is back up to 3.6 so we are headed in the right direction.
For many of my friends this phrase strikes fear in their hearts. Yes, we are all relieved to have the kids back in school of course, but along with this transition comes a lot more demands on our time together.
I ran into a friend of ours last night. I was just at a conference in Idaho last week. A guy I had just met revealed that he was a close friend of yours and Matt’s. And then he checked his phone.
We have long implored my father to write his memoirs. His life is a truly amazing story, and one we all know would entertain the masses. Selfishly I want it written down, in his hand. Want to remember every morsel for the rest of time. It is not to be believed.
