Well, writing at workshop today--actually yesterday at this point in time--turned out to be a zero. I kept getting interrupted and would completely lose the conversation and didn't seem to have the speed to read back and fill in. We didn't write. :( But C was there! YAY! We finally snagged her back from her room full of children. Now all she has to put up with is the likes of us who keep attempting to lengthen her leg (pulling on it).

So I really should sit here and write something profound and meaningful. I want to. It's just not flowing at the moment.

BECAUSE YOU AREN'T WRITING REGULARLY!!

Well, my internal editor has me pegged for once. I can't argue.

These next couple weeks are going to be tossed like salad though. I'm having real difficulty coping with A's trip.

I'm scared. There. I've told people and then put on ...but... [fill in logic like 'he could be killed on the street outside the house tomorrow; you can't live in fear.'] which I guess only serves to minimize the emotion instead of dealing with it. I kept watching him tonight as he sat here in this chair with my laptop and worked on his composition class. At the same time he's downloading his CDs onto his iPod to take with him and listens to something at the same time. This means his all-time-favorite Sony headphones are firmly in place and he is literally in his own world while our world swirls on around him. I find it interesting that he doesn't work in his bedroom. As much as he seems to shut us out at times, he still wants his family around him.

I look at him in amazement, with his long, hairy legs and feet planted firmly on the floor. My feet don't reach the floor when I sit in this recliner! His facial features are so Patterson that I wonder if R sees it and just doesn't say anything or it's just my familiarity with my father's siblings that makes me see it. Because he reminds me most of my Uncle Steven and then sometimes I see Donna in him too. And Jill. It's the eyes and the smile.

And then I think about that terrifying possibility--what if I'm looking at him sitting in my recliner for the last time? What if something disastrous happened to him tomorrow? Or what if it happens while he's half the world away from me? What if he lands in France with people that don't care for Americans or his religion? What if he's miserable? No problem. Abe can handle miserable, but I'd sure hate for the time and expense of this trip to be drowned in a sea of misunderstandings or crossed personalities. But what if there is some remote faction somewhere that knows a group of Americans--and a top-notch segment with unlimited potential at that--are headed abroad and think that they would be a rather easy, unguarded target? It clutches my heart. Honestly it brought tears to my eyes tonight and left me wondering how parents stand it when they lose a child. Because every child is a wonderment to a parent who is deeply involved. Whether it's a quirky sense of humor or a love for the cello or a talent for scrubbing things till they sparkle--those gifts mean the world to a parent who has watched these miracles grow from helpless blobs of bone, flesh and muscle into long-legged, strong-minded, big-hearted, selfish, obstinate people in their own right. And then think--I had something to do with that. Wow! How do you lose all that and still live?

I don't know why I have to be so morose. Perhaps it's hormones. Nasty things. :) I will see him off with a smile. And all my savings. LOL!

I have to have him graduated by the time he gets home. Ugh--that should keep me from dwelling on the negative too much. My head will be buried in books and papers and calendars and mailing-- It's already swimming. :)

My Editor is itching to get busy on the Widow's Peak re-write. Good feeling. And my Creator wants to finish Out of the Ordinary. Wonder if I'll have time to squeeze them out of July? I also want to do some special things with Asher and make the pool a regular stomping ground. I am bound and determined to get my money out of the outrageous price I paid for the season passes. And maybe work into better health in the process. Not to mention spending time with my little man. He's got the same love for the water that I've always had. If I ever had more money than I knew what to do with, we'd have a house on a beach somewhere.

Isn't it odd the way my mind floats? I think I'll float it on to bed. G'night all! Or good morning. :)