Thursday, July 7, 2016

Risk vs. recklessness

He's teaching me the difference as he learns the value of the one over the other. We run up mountains, but I've grown too old and cautious to surf down the shale behind him. We drive some nights, talking and just being mother and son until we're so tired that our restlessness can only be quenched by sleep. He's so much like his father, so much like me; the best of both.

He takes off back into the Pacific Northwest in five days to jam with the western parkour clan. I hope this time he comes home without injury. He tells me he's learned how not to angle his foot, so that the loose bone isn't aggravated. Soft tissue still gives him discomfort from time to time. The Greyhound leaves at 11:30 p.m. Monday for Boise. That's perfect, he says. He can sleep through the desert. 

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