Guess what I did to chill?

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

My son is closing out the second-to-last semester of his college career.

I tremble when I write that.

Papers have kept him up until 6:45 AM.  Finals are filling his days.  He'll exit the final final at the final hour — 7:30 Friday night — and then we'll bring him home.

Yesterday afternoon he called us in a snatch of stolen time.  "Guess what I just did to chill?" he asked.  I had many possible answers; I kept them to myself.  When we said we didn't know, couldn't possibly guess, he answered like this:  "I wrote.  I wrote what I wanted to write.  A new installation in my mystery series.  Can't wait to read it to you when I get home."

You know how I've always said that writing, for me, is medicinal?  I am sitting here feeling just a mighty bit of glad that I passed that part of my weird genetics on.

7 comments:

Serena said...

That's so wonderful! I'm glad that he finds writing medicinal as well.

patti.mallett_pp said...

You have me misty already this morning, Beth, (partly because I, too, have a baby boy who has taken giant leaps into manhood this past year, but in great part to your "Seeing Past Z....").

Usually, when you mention your son, my mind takes him back to "the park." Most times it's at a point when you two have separated and will meet up in a bit. (In my mind he wears a hip-length gray wool coat with large buttons.)

Today, however, I as read your words, he is in your home, writing one of his stories, jumping up every so often to pace the floor. (This is because when you write, you pour your heart into your words. They come alive and dwell with us, your readers.)

Anyway, I'm so happy, for him and for you, that he's still writing!! (It gives us something to hope for, another generation of Kephart to read!)

Bee said...

Your posts always make me smile. From somewhere deep down. This makes me smile wider.

Becca said...

Big smile here :)

Susan Taylor Brown said...

This is such a happy-making post. I remember how I felt when my son was working on a novel for a while. Alas he didn't stay with it but that joy of a shared vocabulary was a real high.

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