hobgoblinn | Many Meetings, and Memory

Been a long day. Hung out at the mall a very long time to meet eldest son. He and his girlfriend got lost. They eventually showed up, about 2 hours after they initially said they would, and about 3 after we got there early (because I just do that.)

While wandering about killing time, I got tackle hugged by my youngest. She's now 12. She happily introduced me to her friends as "my real mom." She came back a couple of times for more hugs. She is so tiny and delicate. Reminds me of the little girl I used to see for visits so long ago. She is a beautiful little elf girl, bouncy and full of life.

Her brother informed me when he arrived that she was in fact "pure evil." I'm sure she is a handful, with my sense of mischief and her birth father's stubbornness (ok, mine, too.) She had several friends around, and she bossily sent some of the boys away because she said they weren't being appropriate-- she's a leader of sorts, and popular, and kind of all the things I never was. I am happy for her, though.

My eldest son is also wonderful. Looks just like me, but with a kind of scraggly beard. Wee Hob is a head taller, which floors me. Eldest is not much taller than I am. He mentioned wanting to study psychology and go into therapy practice, as he gravitates now toward giving advice with his friends. He certainly has a background to be great at that, from all his experiences. I hung back more as we wandered after the meal, letting him and his brother and girlfriend interact. It's great to see them able to reconnect after all this time. She also seems a nice girl. Not quite sure what to make of us, of course, but that's to be expected.

I do have to get on writing a "What Happened?" memoir for Eldest, even though as I told him, it's so hard to remember details of what and why. I was actually thinking about this earlier in another context, how much we want to believe memory is like videotape, and how much instead it's filling in blanks and extrapolating just as we have to do to try to narrate the contents of a dream in a way that might make sense.

Still, he's asked for it, and he deserves it. They all do.

That's about all I have for now. I'm trying to come out here and post more. It's writing, and it will fuel more writing, or at least it used to. Hope all is well with all of you.

Oh-- Music note: checked this album out from the library for Wee Hob. I kinda like it.