The Friday Afternoon Discovery

He was sitting next to me at the dining table. I was working, completely focused on what I was doing, and making sure that I didn't take my eyes off the monitor, no matter what I could see in my peripheral vision, and no matter who called on me. I had a deadline to meet, and I was not going to let this slip.

He was working on his letter of application. Every so often he would look up, ask a question, or mutter something, and sometimes I answered absent-mindely, but I mostly kept completely quiet. He knew better than to demand my attention when I was working on a deadline.

I came to a point where I could pause just long enough to ask for an instruction on Skype, and wait to receive the answer before moving on. I looked over at him, sitting in front of his laptop, typing. He had his head bent and his long torso was a little slouched. The 1:00 p.m. sun was pouring in through the window behind him, and he was engulfed in light. That's when I saw them. Three short gray hairs on the right side of his head. I looked again. Yep. There they were, three gray hairs on a full head of short black hair.

I am overwhelmed with indescribable feelings of joy, reflection, and anticipation. My child has gray hair.

We were singing, "bye-bye, Miss American Pie."

I was 14 when I first heard "American Pie" by Don McLean in Tehran. I went by Ahang-e-Rooz/Beethoven, where Mohsen Agha Chamanara would generously play any song for us after school and would cheerfully help us choose which LP to buy with our allowance that month. In my heart, where my treasures of childhood, first loves, lost loves, complicated loves, and finished loves, along with all kinds of nostalgia are kept, this is one of the pieces of music that sits prominently and is never forgotten.

Tonight I was struggling with a piece of unpleasant work, something that just wouldn't end no matter how hard I tried to finish it! Then I heard the playful beginning notes, and then the whole song started strolling out of the side room, where my older son was listening to music behind a closed door. I don't know which one made those tears escape my eyes, the joy of an important piece of memorabilia of my childhood jumping out at me again, or the joy of knowing that my son might find that music appealing enough to play all by himself.

Life is good tonight. I am a fortunate woman with great memories in my past and absolutely precious treasures in the side room, behind the closed door. A long, long time ago...

I can still remember

How that music used to make me smile.

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And, maybe, they'd be happy for a while....

Musical Surprises

Spring in Kurdistan, Iran, Fars News Agency, May 15, 2009. Isn't this peaceful?

I was at my computer, working on something last night when my older son showed up out of nowhere. He had come home to surprise me! It was a really wonderful surprise! I was looking at him rummage through the refrigerator and the cabinets, looking for and finding food, and eating as though he had been starving for days! He may have been, I don't know! His friends in the Bay Area had driven all the way to Santa Cruz to pick him up and bring him home for the surprise! Later, as I stuck my head in the family room to check in on them, I saw ten young heads sitting all over the place, talking and laughing and listening to music. That was the music I wanted to hear.

My kids have been changing a lot, turning into young men who are showing a lot of characteristics which surprise me alright! All of a sudden, it seems, they have become very attentive and considerate, and that is really a wonderful surprise for me. They have always been very loving in their own ways, heck, I should know, I taught them about love, but there is a new quality, a whole new dimension to the way they love now. They have become expressive of their love, showing it to those around them in words and in actions. This morning, my early rising older son came into my bedroom to say hi as I was tidying up. As we were chatting away, he stepped down the hall and looked in his brother's bedroom, where he was sleeping. When he returned he said all of a sudden: "I love that guy, Mom, especially when he is sleeping like that and he isn't getting on my nerves." A simple announcement, and music to my ears.

Three weeks ago, I received news that I have been laid off from my job. I have been spending a lot of time looking for a new job and thinking how to handle my life and my finances during a most uncertain time in the US economy. Naturally I am sad and anxious, but even in the face of an unknown time ahead, for some reason I don't feel devastated. The night before I received the news, my cousin Mehri called me from Orange County. She told me she had had a dream about my mother. My mother had told her to look out for me (movaazeb e Nazy baash), and had asked her to tell me that she is praying for me, and not to worry. The next day, as I received the news, all I could think about was the message I had received the night before. All through my life, and even almost thirteen years after her death, I have never had a doubt that my mother loved me and has always looked over me. She and my father are the ones who taught me how to love, and I think I have learnt well, I'm almost sure. My solitude and my reflections these days have a peaceful air about them. It's as though all day long I am hearing a beautiful symphony, something that I hadn't heard for a long time because of the stress I had been feeling at work. These days I hear the music of peace.

When I'm faced with adversities, and I have had this particular pleasure many times in my life (!), as soon as the shock stage is over, I try to take stock of what I do have and what it is I am still capable of doing. When I think of the things I have, I can't help but be grateful and happy for holding on to the essence of life, to that which is precious and important, irreplacable and valuable. I am surrounded by loving family and friends, new and old, and extremely valuable bonds of love and understanding. Most of what makes me happy these days in my life has not been made possible with money, so they all get to stay! My life, through all the thousands of tiny and important pieces which comprise it, is a beautiful mosaic of joy and color and love. I'll get through this time, holding on to every single one of those precious pieces, for they were never bought, they were earned. And that knowledge, that reassurance, those floating notes of hope and love, these days make the music of my life.

Sunshine and Onions

Picture of food prepared at Alborz Restaurant in Austin, Texas. I wonder what Tameshk and Hossein think of this restaurant's food! It looks great, don't you think?

It's a cold, dark, and rainy Sunday. One might take such a day to be gloomy and melancholic. It isn't such a day for me! My son came home for the holidays yesterday. He will be around for several weeks now. I am actually caught up on most of my outstanding writing commitments, and for the first time in a few weeks I feel a little more in control of what's happening around me! I may have worried a few of my good friends by the disappearing act of the past few days, and for that I apologize! Heeh! I am chipping away at a very large photo essay I am writing about my life in the San Francisco Bay Area. The project is complicated, because hundreds of photographs have to be numbered and sequenced to match the chronology of the text I am writing. When I get caught in that maze, I can't find my way out to do other things!

In celebration of our first weekend together, my kids and I and their friend Ardavan will be having Chelo Kabab in a few minutes! I'm so excited to be eating my favorite food with my kids on a Sunday. Simple joys of life always impress me the most! I think I will have a big fresh onion with my lunch, too! We will go to see a movie together tonight. It's a beautiful and bright day for me, despite the weather. I hope you all are enjoying yourselves wherever you are, near and shoulder by shoulder of those you love most in life. I hope you reach out and kiss them if the urge hits you. As for me, I'll do that just before I eat my onion! Be good y'all!

The Leaf That Hangs On

Autumn in Kurdistan, Iran. Photo by Shahrooz Sharifinasab, Fars News, December 7, 2008. Look at that stubborn heart-shaped leaf. It is hanging on with all its might. What an important sign that one was to follow tonight!

I am working on something for work through the weekend. It is an important document and I want it to be perfect when I send it in on Monday. Today I had a quiet day working my way through my project, so when my younger son invited me to join him for a late lunch and a funny movie, I jumped for joy and followed him! I know I keep saying this, but he has turned into such an interesting young man, wise and thoughtful and responsible, with an interesting sense of humor.

Tomorrow I will continue working on my project and will go to catch a Berkeley Lecture Series presentation in the afternoon. Deljoo Abadi will be talking about the Qisas Laws of Iran, and Director Mahnaz Afzali will be presenting a screening of her film, Red Card. (UC Berkeley, Barrows Hall, Room 110, 4:00 p.m.).

Bayramali wrote something about Babak Bayat tonight and made me remember the late Iranian musician. He was a composer who wrote many memorable Iranian songs and film scores. I found a videoclip of him playing and singing along one of his songs with Mani Rahnama. I leave the link for you here, in case you are interested. He had such a beautiful and strong voice, too. He is making music in heaven now. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_1XyaoyFk0

Have a happy Sunday everybody and take care of those around you. Kiss them often, hug them, and if you have love in your hearts for anybody, make this the day you will tell them, even if you have never done it, even if you have done it a thousand times before. You won't regret it, I promise!

Tonight's Last Thought...

And one last thought tonight...

Remember the story of that four-leaf clover?

Two weeks ago, my son gave me his four-leaf clover for good luck.

These days I walk around remembering my son and my four-leaf clover all the time.

And I'm thinking, how can I get any luckier than this?

Warm and Beautiful and Easy

Painting by Narges Hashemi, exhibited at Aaran Gallery in Tehran, shown on Iranian.com, November 5, 2008.

I had some nasty dreams last night. Things I didn't want and places I didn't want to visit and people I didn't want to see and actions which were all unwelcome were filling my sleep and I actually woke up several times to "reset" my dreams, but as is an unfortunate thing with me, I would fall asleep again and pick up the dream wherever I had left it off and the unwelcome images came back. It wasn't a nightmare, because I didn't wake up in a cold sweat or screaming, but I was angry all through the night, clenching my jaws, and keeping my hands in a fist, my nails cutting into my palms. Yikes!! That was awful!

I woke up to light and calm, the sun breaking out outside my window, the tree branches dancing in a soft breeze, the sound of my son's breathing down the hall, even the sound of Iden's flushing the toilette upstairs, sounds and feelings of order, life, and normalcy, things that do rule my life these days. I woke up my son to get ready for his 8:00 a.m. class and as he was ready to leave the house, he came into my bedroom where I was getting ready to go to work, and handed me an unsolicited cup of hot tea with a little milk in it, just how I like to drink my morning tea. I stayed in my bedroom for a few more minutes, sipping my tea and looking out the window, feeling alive and fortunate for my life which is warm and beautiful and easy. Thank you God!

Yes, I Do!

Elections days are really exciting days for me. I think my excitement might be contagious, too, because I could see my younger son mirroring my excitement to the point that after their early morning class, his friend Kayvan decided to follow the two of us to the polling place nearby! He will be voting later today in his own neighborhood.

There was a very good turnout at the polling place. My son and I were 111th and 112th people who had voted this morning. Do you remember the short report I posted the last time I went to the same place to vote? This time there was a "No Photography" sign at the entrance, so I couldn't capture all the excitement inside the room! But, hey, I can assure you that the place was buzzing with an unusual level of energy and turnout this time around!

Heeh! This picture shows the two of them wearing "I Voted" stickers, if you can spot the tiny stickers on their T-shirts!

We talked about how the policies adopted over the past eight years have changed our world, have created wars, have caused economic havoc all around the world, and have left so many people destitute, displaced, dead, and disabled. Politics and politicians of America have affected the rest of the world in irrevocable and irreparable ways. We talked about how when some ignorant and apathetic people ask: "Do you really think your vote makes a difference?!" by now we know for sure that the answer is "Yes, I do."

I am honored to be able to vote.

Blissful Saturday

My older son is visiting from Santa Cruz this weekend. He took me out to lunch for my birthday today. We talked about food, music, politics, and relationships. It is really an amazing feeling to talk to my son as an adult. He is brilliant, funny, and full of optimism. Too bad my younger son was at work and couldn't join us. It was a beautiful day. We drove around our neighborhood, spotting signs of autumn on trees and shrubberies nearby, listening to music.

It was even fun getting my car, Golgoon washed! My poor car really needed the attention and it was so good to finally have it washed on a warm October Saturday afternoon, as my son and I were chatting away. A lovely day, indeed.

I will go to Sacramento tomorrow to visit with family and to say goodbye to my sister who was visiting from Tehran. Here's a wonderful videoclip of a very uplifting Kurdish piece of music performed by my beautiful and very good friend, Rojan, and the Tahmoures Pournazeri group. I hope you enjoy it. Have a good Sunday everybody!

A Pleasant Start!

My younger son woke up uncharacteristically chipper and cheerful this morning, wanting to talk! Well, he didn't say much, but he was different than his usual reflective (and grouchy!) self in the mornings. Anyhow, to further surprise me, he played some music for me. This is what he played for me. I share it with all of you, wishing you all a great day. Happy Libra to all!

Manfred Mann's Do Wah Diddy!

A House For Two

A Tehran shop's booming zoolbia and bamiyeh sales during Ramadan, September 22, 2008.

My younger son and I trying to figure out an arrangement which is mutually comfortable for the two of us in the house. I used to give a lot of freedom to the two of them to come and go as they pleased without explaining too much, and staying away doing my projects in the house. Of course I made them meals and was available when they wanted to hang out with me, but I never hung on to them, treating them more as my young adult roommates than kids anymore.

My younger son wants to be attentive to me, so he calls me during the day and when he gets home he comes and sits by me for a little while. I want to tell him that he is as free as he ever was to come and go without having to keep an eye on me. But I also worry that if we set up a pattern of too much independence, with his tendency to keep quiet, distance might grow between the two of us. So, we experiment with different things. I took my dinner plate into the family room last night and sat with him watching some TV, something I hadn't done in 2.5 years! I showed him a most amazing thing, a hand-made travelogue by this Iranian Assyrian guy who went to Iran and came back and gave his (limited edition!) book to Jahanshah to publish. (If you can access Iranian.com, you really MUST see this amazing book). We talked about it for a few minutes. I find that just over the past 48 hours, he goes away but comes back more intermittently to check things out and then goes out again. We'll figure it out, I'm sure. It is just strange.

Meanwhile, and in case you are wondering, my older son has not called me and twice when I called him, he was really busy and really excited, going to beginning of the term orientations and parties! Good for him, that party animal!

Do you want to know the truth about how I feel? I think what my older son is doing is the natural and right thing to do for somebody his age and in his situation. I don't want my kids to worry about me or feel obligated to look in on me. I have made choices in my life of which I am proud. One of them was, for whatever reason, to leave a man almost three years ago. I came to live with my children in the US. I made that decision. I have to stand by it by myself and bear the consequences of it. Young men have a natural tendency to be protective of their mothers. If I'm not careful, I can create feelings of guilt and obligation in my children for taking care of me and I don't want that. I have lived and continue to live my life with my choices and they should live theirs unencumbered by responsibilities which don't belong to them. It's good to be a family, it is important to be close, but it is equally important to feel free to pursue one's meaning and mission in life. I want that for my sons. Me and the Traveller will have to figure out a formula which works for both of us.

Revelations in Motion

On our way to Santa Cruz today, we were talking and listening to Namjoo in the car. My older son was driving.

He said: "I love that music. He is such a cool guy. A very nice guy, too."

I said: "Yeah. He appears that way."

He said: "He really is. Did I tell you I hung out with him?"

I said: "Really?!!! When?!!"

He said: "Oh, he came by last week."

I said: "What?!!! He came by where?"

He said: "To our house. We hung out together and chatted for a while. He is really a very nice guy."

I said: "Mohsen Namjoo came to our house?!!! He walked into the mess that my house is with the two of you?!! When was this? How did this come about?!! Why didn't you tell me?!! Oh My God, was the house a mess?"

He said: "Calm down Mom! He came by with Pouria. They were running an errand and stopped by. Yes, I guess the house was a mess...but he didn't care. We just sat around and talked a bit. He is really nice."

Oh My God! I am sooo embarrassed.

Farewell

I took my older son to Santa Cruz today. He is starting a new chapter in his life. So am I.

Life By Trial And Error

Here's a clip of Mohsen Namjoo's concert, singing Daheh Shast (1980's). My friend Sabereh Kashi made this clip and it's on Vimeo. Beyond Persia's Lale Welsh and Amir Salamat are the Executive Producers. I borrowed this from Iranian.com. Enjoy!

September is such a busy month for me. I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off! I have to help my son prepare for taking off for UC Santa Cruz by September 20th, and our little home is buzzing with activities having to do with his departure. Last minute details and advice are all we do these days. There's so much he needs to know, so much I should tell him. He will be on his own, taking care of himself. He will have to do so many things for himself now. Will he remember all the things I'm telling him? Does it matter, really? I mean how much of life has to be facilitated by loving adults and how much of it has to be learned through trial and error? I don't mind his trials, it's the errors I fear! Heeh! I left my parents' home when I was 18, and it wasn't to go to college in a town 2 hours away--it was to get married and have a life of my own! I remember my father's tears on my wedding night. He asked me why the rush? He asked whether my life with my family and at that house had been so bad I felt compelled to leave it so soon?! He asked me why I wouldn't give him a chance to do the things for me which he had done for his other children? I couldn't understand his and my mother's worries about my upcoming trials and errors! They were the best parents anyone could wish for. Their home was the most loving home ever. Yet, I had to go. I had to leave, because love beckoned me. I did attempt many trials in my life, many of which turned into errors! But I'm forever grateful for the chance to go, to take off, to go see things, to learn things, to suffer, yes, but also to enjoy, to become the person that I became.

I want the same things for my son and his brother, even if I know they will face walls and disappointments and pains along the way, for they will also experience joy and fulfillment they could never feel living in my nest. I want my sons to be happy.

19

Beatles' "Dont Let Me Down," recorded in 1969 at Abbey Road Studios, this never-before-heard version is from the original studio recording session.

My son, the Traveler, turned 19 on Friday. He was born exactly 20 years after this Beatles recording was made, but he loves the Beatles, just like his brother and I do. I let him celebrate his birthday with his brother and other friends and we finally celebrated as a family tonight. Their friend Pouria was here, too. We had a simple dinner and a simple celebration at his request. He has always been a serious individual, but these days more and more I see the serious young man that is emerging in him. Our routine birthday ritual, where I take a few minutes to tell the story of the day each of them was born was received politely and patiently again this year! Heeh! I can't help it! As I tell the story to them each year, I have to remind them that I do this to emphasize the importance and significance of their arrival into my life. I remind them that this is important because, frankly, I cannot remember my life before them! It's as though with their birth I was born, too. They have dispersed now to go do what young men should be doing on a Sunday night, and I sit here reflecting on my son's experiencing his young manhood and my own motherhood.

Let me tell you about Pouria. Several months ago I invited my friends Lale and Amir to a party at my house. They told me they had a young guest at their home, Amir's nephew, wondering whether they could bring him along. I said by all means as my sons could keep him company. I told my sons that I had dinner company on that particular night and they were to stick around the house to receive my unknown young guest. The two of them protested, as they usually do, saying that I should have checked with them before promising their presence at the party. I tried to cajole (well, threaten!) them into being helpful to me. When my guests arrived and they walked into the house with their young guest, Pouria, as he stepped into the family room where we were all sitting before the guests arrived, he and my older son stood there frozen for a moment. Then they jumped into each other's arms, screaming and laughing. They had been classmates in high school in Tehran! I already knew that it's a small world, but it was good to watch my children learn this, too! The rest is history and they are pretty inseparable now.

I hope my son's life is filled with music and love. I hope his new year of life is full of wonderful new experiences and joyful incidents. I hope he continues to grow in his loving and caring character. I hope he has a good year.

For all of you, I wish a happy Monday and a great week. Be good y'all!

Boy With A Bird

Boy With a Bird, by Roya Salari, an Iranian artist living in London, from Iranian.com.

I saw this painting among some others by Roya Salari on Iranian.com this afternoon. My older son had come to talk to me for a few minutes and he saw this image on my screen. He sat down next to me and the two of us continued looking at it in silence togehter. After a few minutes he said: "That's really beautiful. I think poems can be written about that painting." I looked at him and I said, "Yes, they can. And I think you have already written some of them." He nodded his head in acknowledgement, looking a little embarrassed, because I know him so well. He has written many poems, and in many of them there is a boy in the center of the poem. What's a little eerie about this is that in several of his poems about a boy, he refers to "the sliver of a moon," just as it appears behind the boy in the painting. It was a strange and sweet and comforting conversation between mother and son.

This was a weekend for me to catch up on many things. I am somewhat satisfied with my progress. I have been so tired and overwhelmed recently, pushing myself physically and emotionally. I have to make a big decision and it has been weighing heavily on my mind, too. This weekend really helped me in sorting myself out. In the middle of the day, I stopped work and my sons and I had a delicious Chelo Kabab-e Soltani lunch together (no, I didn't make it!). Though I don't normally eat big meals, I let myself get carried away with the delicious meal, complete with fresh onions, as Chelo Kabab must be eaten! I was joking with my sons, telling them that the choice was all theirs--to eat the onions with me or to put up with me in the house for the rest of the day! The two of them couldn't bite into those onions fast enough!

Life goes on with its normal ebbs and flows, some days better and some days harder, but still all beautiful. I may have dreams and ambitions and fears and hopes, and there are some wishes I would love to see come true. But I wouldn't change my life for anything. The way I see it, it is exactly as it should be and it is a good life, full of exciting challenges, friendships, and love. What it has missing it will have in a matter of time, and what it already has will flourish and grow and get even better. I believe that. And I wish the same for all of you. Have a fabulous week everyone!

Variety By "Bacheh Bad"

Ferdowsi's Bijan o Manijeh on stage in Tehran. Photo by Shahrooz Nabati for Iranian.com. Take a look at those costumes! I so miss Iranian theater. It's one thing we don't see enough of in these parts of the world.

I have been a "bacheh bad," neglecting my beloved blogs for many days now. I thought if I wrote that I was enundated with responsibilities and a little under the weather, I would encourage all to say nice things to me and I didn't want that. Bogzarim keh you guys are always very kind and nice to me, no matter what I say! My blues followed me from last week into this week and I was really mad that I couldn't shake them off. The cloud seems to be lifting now, and here I am!

My kids are so sweet! My younger son keeps telling me that he is concerned to see me working away into late hours of the night and waking up early to do some more work. It's gotten to the point where now when I hear him coming, I get up and go greet him so that he won't worry about me too much. Of course he sees right through me! He said tonight he wants to take me out to dinner soon. My older son and I chatted for a few minutes today about his leaving the house soon. He said he won't be that far and that he'll come visit and camp out here every chance he gets! I agreed but added that it just won't be the same not having him around the house all the time. And there we were, in the state of dread-excitement that the two of us seem to be hanging in these days.

My calendar seems to have become full again for August and September, with something to do every weekend. I get exhausted just looking at all the commitments I have made for myself again, even though I had promised myself I would save some weekends for chilling out. I am really excited about a fundraising event I will be organizing with a friend in August. I'm also excited about the Namjoo concert which will be happening in September. In September we will also have a family reunion around a family wedding in Southern California. Now that's something to look forward to and to be happy about! I'll get to see my brothers and their families, yippee!

My friend says a man she thought about seriously has been acting strange and remote, possibly wanting to end the relationship. My heart breaks for her pain, but I'm relieved they are figuring this out now, as opposed to later. I told her she should look for a guy who would think and act honored and delighted to have her in his life, because she is such a special woman. I hope she doesn't think I just said that to please her and to soothe her pains. I think everybody deserves to feel loved, respected, cherished, and honored in a relationship. Anything less than that isn't good enough, especially for my very special friend.

I will go to my third Persian Poetry class tomorrow night with Dr. Zari Taheri. She is teaching us about Nezami's Eskandar Nameh. Don't you think it bizarre that Nezami and other Iranian poets and authors have such a positive view of Eskandar (Alexander), the man who was responsible for so much destruction in Iranian history?! She is explaining that part of that positive light surrounding Eskandar in Persian literature is that Persians didn't like to say they were conquerred or defeated by an ordinary man, so they built him up to be a hero! I will write something about what I learn in that class when it's over next week.

Have a good Wednesday everybody. I promise to start posting regularly. I have missed this too much!

Finding Our Way

More of the stuff inside my camera...My son and I arrived the fog-covered UC Santa Cruz last Thursday at 7:00 a.m., looking for directions. These days, he seems like he has found his way. I am looking to find my way, too. I think it was a strange coincidence for California Dreamin to be playing in the car, don't you?

Tears To Parties In My Head

Watermelon harvest, Boushehr, July 23, 2008. More photos here.

I am humbled by your reception and response about my last post. Thank you very much. First chance I get, I will reply to each comment individually as I like to do but have been unable to do because of my many commitments and deadlines.

I am going to a short Persian literature class again this summer, starting tonight. My beloved Dr. Zari Taheri is back in the Bay Area for a few short weeks and she will be teaching us Nezami's Eskandar Nameh this summer. I am so excited! I'm not only going to learn from the very best, I'm going to see my special friends, too. Yippee!

My son is preparing for the Fall. As the amount of excitement seems to be growing in him, I have to face the mounting dread I feel for a separation from him. I am trying so hard to act and look cool and brave, but when I see him messing up the house or sleeping in his room, or when I hear him and his friends laugh and talk in the TV room, my eyes burn with the controlled tears that threaten to fall at the thought of his long absences in the house. I don't want to be a clingy mother, so I don't. Cling that is. Also, boys are naturally protective of their mothers. As a single mother, I would hate for my boys to feel guilty about leaving me to go pursue their lives. So I look even tougher on the outside than I feel on the inside, so that they feel free to make their own choices in life without reservations about me. Of course, once they are both gone, I will go find my dream house in Berkeley and leave the suburbs behind, living where I love to live. It would have to be a party house, though. You know, with a huge party room and a balcony, so that I can have my friends over all the time!

I'll let you know how my class goes tonight. Be good and happy you guys and have a good Thursday.

Stepping Into Tomorrow

Early tomorrow morning, my older son and I will go to UC Santa Cruz to attend a "New Student Orienation." We will look around the campus and listen to people talk about life at the university. My son is a transfer student. This means that he has already finished two years of college and is entering the University as a junior student. This makes him older than freshman students who will also be there tomorrow. I asked him if he thought it would be O.K. for an older student to go to the orientation with his mother, and he said that he wanted me there. So we are going together. We are both so excited for this day. He has worked hard to get here and has tried several different detours on the way! I have had to do none of that but to watch him during his detours until he found the way!

I think it's infinitely easier to be the one doing the detouring and finding the way than to be the one watching, feeling helpless. I am so happy for him. I never forget the day his letter of admission came in the mail. I was running around screaming in joy and happiness, and he and his brother and Iden were looking at me do the dance and the screaming like a crazy lunatic! It would be a long time before the three of them would know what it means for a parent when her child has done the right thing and has arrived at an important station in life, because we feel the pains and joys of our children as if it is happening to us, perhaps with less intensity but with the experiences of our lifetime and the foresight we have developed over the years. I am so happy for my son, who is a beautiful and decent human being, intelligent, articulate, kind, and compassionate. Tomorrow, we are stepping into his tomorrow. I hope his roads are safe and straight and clear throughout his life. But if he has to get lost, take detours, and camp out in the wilderness sometimes, I am confident he will figure it out again soon. His compass is one of the heart and optimism and hope. There is no way such a compass will show him the wrong way.

Have a good Thursday y'all.