Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Today I am recovering from the spoils of high living and hard loving. No, not drink, although there was some of that, and no, not a lover's caress, although I received that, too.
My youngest son, the one I have always felt took second shift to his brother, my work, my ego and its petty fears, came to visit. That's him on the right at a Press Conference answering the question, "Why?"
He's part of the group Wizard Boots out of Portland, Oregon, and they've been spreading the answer on tour. They played San Diego and then stopped in L.A. to visit us, and rest up for their San Francisco gig tonight.
I was surrounded by he and his friends and their interests and gladly took a backseat. His story is not finished; he's at the eternal beginnings part of life: spring surrounds him like a lush and everblooming garden. He's okay. Better than okay. He's loved, and not just by his dad and me. He's built a life and we're allowed a part of it, and I'm so blessed that I weep.