Letting Go

Sorry I haven't written. I've been busy letting go.
For all of you who may have doubted my ability to let go of my first-born son, you'd be proud.
I am doing it.
He's off.
I'm here on the side of the hill. Letting go.
After one day on the internship, the company sent him off with a team for four days to a town north of Rome on a project.
This company believes in working their interns hard for the financial betterment of the company. No sitting around making photocopies for this group.
My son? In a hotel paid for by someone other than his parents?
You gotta be kidding.
Feels good, folks.
I like this letting go stuff. No matter what you think.
Went to some hot baths in Tuscany with an old girlfriend yesterday.
Mmmm.
There are so many hot baths not that far from here. I had no idea.
My girlfriend, who's lived here a long time, knows them all.
Bless her.
A lot of them are closed now, for the month of January, but still, she found a gorgeous one nestled in the hills and cypresses of Tuscany that she had been to with her mother not long before her mother passed away.
I knew her mother.
So that felt significant.
Everything feels significant these days.
Momentous even.
My friend has a 23-year-old daughter who is now becoming friends with my son. She's invited him out a few times already with her group of friends.
Bless her.
They're going to the movies on Saturday night. So my old girlfriend and I may go to the movies too.
Simple. But also momentous somehow.
My son's coming back to our side of the hill tonight for the weekend.
Haven't seen him all week.
He's liking his new job. He's working hard.
I'm working hard too. At letting go.
I think I can do it.