My son was originally supposed to move into his own home on August 18. Then it became September 19, then September 26 and finally, yes finally, on Wednesday, October 15, my son moved into his home. That would be the day he came over to my new home to take Penny back to his new home.
Three months of uncertainty, of all consuming worry about my son's predicament, came to an end. No more of him living in limbo at my ex wife's home. Wednesday night I sat alone in the quietness of solitude. Solitude that also brought a revelation. The knowing that despite the new void, the depressive, debilitating environment I had experienced, was now starting to vanish. The dull fog dissipated. I knew that my son, indeed, that I had coped very well. I was proud of him. I was proud of myself. My little Tristan, now a young adult, embracing the independence he'd craved with with every ounce of his adventurous dreams.
Now, both our new lives begin. A sense of loss and yet a sense of a gain for us both. A harmonious balance awaits. This I know. A fresh start. A new magic.
Sensitivity, being finely tuned, did bring on one of the worst bouts of depression I've ever known. Yet the depression was all about caring, of concern, of love.
It's time to go Blog To The Future. I'm glad to be back. Thank you for all the support, the caring I've received from so many sources in the background. You have touched my heart.
