I'm in Santa Barbara at the Pacific Graduate Institute attending workshops on Carl Jung's archetypes and mythology and watching Native American women drum.
Derek is at home, holding down the fort, with our dog and cat, and playing a new guitar he's coveted for years.
Diego is up in Bellingham, at Western Washington University where he said he just ran a 5:40 mile for fun and loves the track. He moved in to his dorm eight days ago and started college two days ago.
And Charlie is down in Southern California at a water polo tournament. He'll go to Disneyland with his team on Sunday, and I'm imagining it will be a good time. The first and only time we took him, he was about 8 and kept asking us if we could just got back to the hotel pool. This weekend he gets both. He's in the back row, center.
We're all scattered. We're all doing our thing. We can do this--or at least I can do this and feel good about them doing this--because we know we'll all be back together some time. There's a foundation there that buttresses us as we're out in the world. A family grown over years and years. I never knew it was possible, this much love.
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