About a week and a half before Christmas, my son came to me and said he wanted to go and live with his father…

He came to me as a mature young man. He told me that he needed to talk — that he didn’t want to upset me or hurt me, but that he’d given it alot of thought and he wanted to go live with his father.

I was completely shocked. Then, merely devastated.

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Picking up on my last blog… about the universe showing me what I need to see, when I need to see it…Last Friday, I decided to spend the day with my father. I want to spend more time with him outside of arguing about the building methods on the cabin and contradicting his ideas while inserting my own. It’s a hobby of mine, apparently. He participates. It’s a little game we play.

Anyway, I wanted some “Father-Daughter” time. And, we got it. But it wasn’t exactly as I had imagined it would be. It started out well - the evening before I arrived late and we stayed up way too late eating junk food (which neither one of us should be eating) and watching movies on DVD back-to-back. The next day we planned to let me get through my client appointments in the early a.m., then “play it by ear” for the afternoon.

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The last week and a half has been so… um… challenging, that I’ve not taken the time to blog. I’ve been busy re-evaluating my life as a whole. You know, one life sure gets complicated. Re-evaluating is a huge job.

Re-evaluating my life is a bigger job right now than living it — and living it is challenging enough. I find it interesting that the universe has an uncanny habit of showing me all the things I should be thankful for at the exact moment that I permit myself some comfortable pity-party and wallow time…

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