My 15 year-old son arrived home today after being away for 12 days. It's great to see him. We share the same weird sense of humour so when he's away I miss him for that reason as well as for the traditional mom-son reasons.
It was storming here this morning and I thought his flight might be delayed, but an hour before he landed the snow ended and spring arrived. Precipitation has since turned back to snow and the wind has recommenced to howl, but he's home so that's just fine.
I confess that when I saw him at the airport I had to look twice to make sure it was him. He's really growing up. I know, I know, they do that.
He'll be 16 at the end of the month. One of those milestone events that remind me that he won't be here forever and that someday soon I won't have him around to joke with, to talk with and to hug goodnight. (Geez, this is getting sappy fast, isn't it?)
As kids get older one of their most important jobs is to break away from mom and dad and to establish their own identities. My son sometimes struggles with this because, aside from our humour, we also share like goals of wanting to be writers. He as a screenwriter, me as a novelist. Because he needs his writing to be separate from mine, he rarely discusses his work with me. I look forward to the day when he is comfortable with our separateness so he can share this part of himself with me.
Maybe that's something that I can look forward to as I prepare myself for the day that he sets out on his own and creates his own place, his own space.
His arrival today and his pending birthday has reminded me what a great person he is. I hope he knows that in that place deep inside that we all need to be strong to carry us through whatever comes along.
Fortunately, I still have a lot of time left to keep on reminding him.
Colleen
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Monday, March 5, 2007
Feeling pensive
Today's post will be a short one. I have a couple of things on my mind causing me to feel rather pensive.
One is the fight to maintain my positivity about my writing. When I begin a book, I love it. Love the characters. Can't wait to get to it each day. Somewhere about the middle of the book, my enthusiasm begins to falter. Not my enthusiasm for the story or the characters, but in my belief that I can write the story the way I want it written. That's where I'm at today.
The second, and more important, issue on my mind is my older sister's health. She had a mild heart attack over the weekend and had quadruple bypass surgery yesterday. I spoke with her just before she went in and her spirits were good. There was very little heart muscle damage and her prognosis is excellent. Since surgery, I am told by my niece, sister is doing well and if she modifies her daily habits she will do just fine over the long term also.
Days before the event, she had moved to Ottawa and is now being taken care of at the venerable Heart Institute. Definitely the place where you want to be in such a situation. She says her angels were watching out for her. (Our brother died many years ago and, she believes, he takes care of her. I imagine that her mom, who has also passed away, does the same.)
But angels and timing aside, one cannot ignore the writing on the page. Mortality. The first big peak into that void. Like taxes, it is said, a sure bet for all of us. (Although one might hope that since we Canadians pay so much of one we might get a bit of a deal on the other.) And when one regards the mortality of a sibling, one cannot help but feel the spectre of one's own creeping about in the background trying to hide its face and doing a damn poor job of it.
My brother also has some heart wonkiness and I worry that it's getting worse. Not that he tells me much.
Of course, they inherit heart problems from their mother who is a different woman from my mother, but mine also has heart problems. Imagine that. Dad picked two women with generous breasts and faulty tickers. (I'll try to sort that out another day.)
So, that is my state of mind today. How very morose of me.
I think I better get on that treadmill. I've postponed it long enough today. No point in tempting the fates.
Ah, and the sun's out. Gorgeous day.
Perhaps, it's not such a bad one after all.
Colleen
One is the fight to maintain my positivity about my writing. When I begin a book, I love it. Love the characters. Can't wait to get to it each day. Somewhere about the middle of the book, my enthusiasm begins to falter. Not my enthusiasm for the story or the characters, but in my belief that I can write the story the way I want it written. That's where I'm at today.
The second, and more important, issue on my mind is my older sister's health. She had a mild heart attack over the weekend and had quadruple bypass surgery yesterday. I spoke with her just before she went in and her spirits were good. There was very little heart muscle damage and her prognosis is excellent. Since surgery, I am told by my niece, sister is doing well and if she modifies her daily habits she will do just fine over the long term also.
Days before the event, she had moved to Ottawa and is now being taken care of at the venerable Heart Institute. Definitely the place where you want to be in such a situation. She says her angels were watching out for her. (Our brother died many years ago and, she believes, he takes care of her. I imagine that her mom, who has also passed away, does the same.)
But angels and timing aside, one cannot ignore the writing on the page. Mortality. The first big peak into that void. Like taxes, it is said, a sure bet for all of us. (Although one might hope that since we Canadians pay so much of one we might get a bit of a deal on the other.) And when one regards the mortality of a sibling, one cannot help but feel the spectre of one's own creeping about in the background trying to hide its face and doing a damn poor job of it.
My brother also has some heart wonkiness and I worry that it's getting worse. Not that he tells me much.
Of course, they inherit heart problems from their mother who is a different woman from my mother, but mine also has heart problems. Imagine that. Dad picked two women with generous breasts and faulty tickers. (I'll try to sort that out another day.)
So, that is my state of mind today. How very morose of me.
I think I better get on that treadmill. I've postponed it long enough today. No point in tempting the fates.
Ah, and the sun's out. Gorgeous day.
Perhaps, it's not such a bad one after all.
Colleen
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
