Considering everyone seems to be in a celebratory mood today (for obvious reasons) I am somewhat contemplative instead. And there is an obvious reason for that too, although the world at large wouldn’t know what that reason is.

Yesterday I received a phone call that I had been dreaming about, planning for, rehearsed for – you name it. I had a speech at the ready but when the call came, I was too stunned to say anything remotely intelligent, let alone impressive and too shocked to shed any tears. The call came from my oldest son, now 22, whom I had not seen since he was 10 months old. He grew up with his father in England, who remarried and seems to still be in a fairly stable situation. But what do I know? There is a fairly long story behind all of this but for brevity I will not go there. Not yet.

Over the years I have made various, unsuccessful attempts, at getting past the gatekeeper on the telephone – namely, Mrs. X. I got nowhere every time I did call and finally gave up. Until Easter of this year when once again I forgot about the time difference between the US and the UK and called at 4 a.m. their time. Being subjected to a barrage of expletives wasn’t my idea of fun, it was exceptionally painful to be honest, but for the sake of leaving my current address and phone number I endured it. I may have had nightmares for days after that but in light of recent developments I’m sucking it up and stuffing it into the drawer labeled “things I never have to do again”.

I always thought I would burst into tears when eventually my son made contact with me, as I always knew somehow that he would. None of that happened. We had a calm conversation as though we had always known each other, exchanging laughs and observations and the like and it felt comfortable. Nothing overtly emotional about it at all. I’m still trying to sort that out. Perhaps I’ve gotten so used to missing him that I was drained already and simply had nothing left to be emotional about? I don’t have a shrink on retainer, so I’ll have to ponder this on my own.