The last couple of days...

All of the recent posts -- everything from October 2 to this one -- were written in rapid succession the evening of Wednesday the 8th.  I was meaning to post them earlier, but just didn't get to it.  Or something like that.

I'm typing this in a hotel room in Faraway City ... yeah, I didn't think I'd get back here for a while either.  It's been a long time.  Strictly speaking I'm in a different suburb from before, but it's the same basic place.  I'm here nearly all week -- Tuesday through Friday.  Then I'm back home for a week, and then I've got a trip to Sticksville.  And I've just been asked to visit several other sites before the end of the year, though I haven't figured out if I can fit all that into my calendar yet.  Oh, did I mention that a couple of weeks ago our division cancelled all travel for the rest of the year, as a cost-savings measure, unless you can get the approval of the regional president?  Maybe I forgot that part.  But somehow that's not how it's working out for me.

Meanwhile I've written a couple other long pieces, but haven't posted them here.  One was a lengthy description of the Durmstrang Parents' Weekend, which I had promised to write for Wife.  You're probably not interested in hearing that.  Another ... well, while I was at Durmstrang I talked to Son 2's English teacher.  She had asked the students to write essays about their heritage.  Apparently his first draft was a bit lackluster, but she was really impressed by his final draft.  He skipped past all the usual meanings of the word heritage and wrote instead about how his past has made him who he is: that is to say, he wrote about how he has known his whole life that his mother has a disease which is going to kill her one day, and which left her sick and unable to do things with him for most of his childhood.  He went on to explain that this knowledge had the consequence of making him way more compassionate than he would have been otherwise, but also a lot angrier.  And then he talked about ways he has learned to deal with the anger.  (He goes out into Nature and lets its immensity -- and his comparative insignificance -- restore his calm and sense of perspective. I think in fact he has discovered a form of meditation, even though he always teases me about "sitting and doing nothing" whenever I meditate.)

I asked Son 2 if I could read this paper.  I hope I wasn't too pushy, because I know I would hate to show something like that about me to my father!  But he did e-mail me a copy.  So last night I wrote him a reply, and that too took me a while because I wanted to be brief and not fulsome, but also to do it justice.  What I tried to say, in the shortest possible way, was:

• Yes, you are amazingly compassionate. You say nobody sees it, but I see it.
• I totally get everything you say about how to deal with anger.
• The description you give of yourself is both true and admirable.
• Most sixteen-year-olds don't see themselves nearly so clearly. I know I didn't.

I hope I hit the right note.  I really do.

It's late.  I need to turn in.  I don't feel tired yet, but I'll regret it tomorrow if I don't.