Self

In a previous post I played with the idea that my father was there behind me as I wrote it.

Now I want to talk about my son.

He is at the age when the relationship with the father is uneasy. My father used to kiss us, and then at one point, I refused his affection expressions. Later in life I went back to him. I guess I had reasserted myself as something different from him.

I don't know where my son is exactly in this spectrum of the life continuum.

All I want to write here is that I am proud of him. He has been accepted to three major institutions of learning.

Go on man!

Today you turned 18.