I haven't posted much here since I joined Facebook in February. It's fun over there; I get feedback. When I post there, I know all of the people who'll read what I write, and I know at least a few will respond.
But I miss this place. Facebook is a step up from Twitter, but not a very big step. Although there are no limits on the size of entries, the feel of an ongoing conversation doesn't lend itself to lengthy posts. It's mostly one liners--at most a short paragraph. And it's not the place for introspection.
So this morning, here I am back on the blog. An hour from now my son Michael will toss his suitcase and backpack in the trunk of my car and I'll drive him to the airport. I'll pull up to the curb in front of Air Canada; I won't turn off the engine or get out. I'll pop the trunk, and Michael will get out, get his stuff out of the trunk, and immediately walk away, turning back toward the car just enough to wave goodbye.
At 2 am tomorrow morning, my time, he'll arrive at Narida International Airport in Japan, where it'll be 3 pm. Maybe I'll be asleep; maybe I'll look at the clock and try to imagine what he's seeing and feeling. He'll be in a strange place where he can neither speak the language (beyond disk one of Rosetta Stone) nor read the signs. He'll have to find his way to Tokyo, to an apartment management office, pick up keys, and find his way to the apartment he reserved a month ago. He'll have to find a grocery store and everything else one needs to get by. Soon he'll have to find Waseda University and the law school there.
And I won't be there help him, and I wouldn't be much help if I were. It's tough, for a parent. It's not the first time, though, nor the hardest. It never gets easy but it does get easier, and this time, Michael has bought a new camera and created a blog, and I'm looking forward to reading it very much.
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