A Quick Ponderance. . .

So, it seems like I have noticed the counter on the blog see a couple significant jumps this past week since publishing the last post.  I like that--if it really means that more folks are reading.  What I don't quite understand is why there is no other evidence that folks are reading the posts.  There are several quick, painless avenues for you to let it be known that you visited the page.  Because I guess I am emotionally needy or greedy, or something like that, I would LOVE to see all visitors leave some sort of indication of their visit.  Let me take a moment to explain these options to you in case you were unaware of the simplicity, and importance (for me), of leaving traces of your visit.  Aha!  My word-choice phraseology may just have helped me stumble upon the cause of the un-indicated visits.  Maybe many of you are back country enthusiasts, and you've sincerely internalized the eco-friendly mantras so relentlessly preached to you in the past decades of "green" campaigning: "Leave no trace!"  Well, I am here today--still loving God's gifts of nature and our role in caring for and wisely using His gifts--to ask your blatant disregard of that naturalist's command so engrained into your psyche.  Please DO leave me evidence that you've visited my "world in words."  Here's how.

1) REACTION:  the simplest way--takes just a micro-second of your precious time.  Directly under each entry, you will see an aquamarine box giving the date and time of the post, and below that, a line in dark purple lettering reading "REACTION:  Made me:"  followed by five possible response choices.  This is an upgrade to Facebook's "Like" button, only offering more specific responses.  I've seen countless Facebook comments saying how they need a LOVE, or SUPER EXCITED, or DISLIKE--or any number of other possible ideas-- button.  So, in my infinite wisdom, I give you a few more choices here--some positive and others less positive.  I truly am interested in honest responses so will never be offended by any response you click--just click one, okay?  So simple.

2) POLL: also very quick and easy--get to express your opinion.  In the right hand column of the blog page, just below the "about the author" blurb, you'll find a section called "Cast your Vote." Under the instructions will be one or more usually light-hearted questions relating to the recent posts, with choices for answers.  Read through the often silly choices and choose one or more that best describes your thoughts, feelings, or experiences regarding the issue.  Sometimes you can choose only one answer; sometimes you can choose more than one.  It will tell you when more-than-one choice is available.  Just a fun way to interact with my thoughts, and I sometimes amuse myself by trying to guess who may have chosen the answers they did.  Sometimes, it may say that the poll has closed, but I try to keep them updated so that they do not expire.  Also, can be intriguing for all readers to scope out the opinions of other readers to see how they fit in the audience.  So, have fun, and interact with my words, by "Casting your Vote."   

3) COMMENT: fairly quick, but allows for more specific idea communication.  In the same pale-blue box where the reaction buttons are, following the date and time of publication, is printed; "0 comments," (or however many there may be, if others have commented on that post.)  If you click on the word comment, it will take you to a different screen with a white box instructing you to "enter comment here."  Simply type what you have to say in the box and hit publish.  If it asks how you want to be identified, you can always choose the "anonymous" option, and it'll probably ask you to enter some code to prove you're not a robot, but that's all there is to it.  Yes, your comments are then a permanent part of the page and available for others to read.  So, if you have specific words of wisdom, or advice, or chastisement, or encouragement, to share with me--and can spare an extra moment or two--this may be the proper option for you.  If more privacy is important for you, then read on to choice #4.

4) E-MAIL: good, feels-modern-but-quickly-become-old-fashioned electronically sent note to me.  In the "About the Author" section in the right column, directly under the hippo photo, you will see my name.  Click on it and it will bring up my profile page.  On the left of that page, again under the photo of William the hippo, there's a pale grey "contact me" box.  Click on the first option, "Email" and voila, a compose message screen should open from your messaging source with my email address in the "To" line.  Type away, and hit "Send."  Easy, private, and of course, I always appreciate messages of substance.

One more thing.  Another feature I've added today is a spot where you can add your email address if you would like email notification when my blog has been updated.  It's toward the bottom in the right column, right above the counter.  So, give it a try if you like to keep current--as often as I do.  Let me know if it's working the way it should. 

So, now that I've enlightened you to the ease of letting me know I have readers--and yeah, shamelessly, nearly-begged for digital attention--I look forward to stunning revelations from my reading audience.  Keep reading!

A Sibling's Offspring

And, here we go again.  How come there's no one word to encompass the aunt/uncle-ship; niece/nephew-hood condition?  See, it's even confusing when I try to clarify what I'm talking about.  We have words like paternal, maternal, fraternal for referring to other familial relationships--although even then, chasmic liberties have been taken.  Fraternal--for example, too often references things widely antithetical to the actual bond between two people with the same parents.  Images of buff, sun-tanned, polo-shirted, inebriated college boys comes to mind--suppose it's a movie-induced image, but seriously causes some animated head-shaking and finger-wagging in the direction of the one so carelessly responsible for coining that usage of the word-part.  What were they thinking?  Or were they?  Personally, I can fathom no correlation between "frat-boy"-hood and a true brotherly bond!  Equally as disconnected and insulting is the insurance/finance industry's use of the term "fraternal organization" to euphemistically refer to greedy, schmoozing, corporate racketeers that deem themselves as caring providers of much-needed or desired financial management services.  Shame on them for abusing the inclusive, multitasking nature of our forgiving language--just for the smooth, underhanded seduction of innocent and optimistic frugal-minded folks simply trying to be good stewards of their rewards.  Where are the "spirit-of-the-law" linguistic police when you need them most? 

Okay--can you say "Tangent"; how about "Rant"?  Seems there may be a bit of pent-up passion there.  My apologies--sort of.

So, for the sake of linguistic ease and clarity, let's realize the idealistic etymologist's dream and coin our own term that encompasses the entire and general realm of the aunt/uncle/niece/nephew relationship.  A quick comparital glance at the terms "aunt" and "uncle" rewards us with the common letters of "U" and "N"; likewise, with "niece" and "nephew", we attain another "N" and two "E"s.  So, lets combine the common letters into a somewhat logical and pronounceable new term: "enune."  I like that it sounds similar to "anew"; after all, isn't the enune condition a dynamic state of renewal as the involved individuals grow and age?  Fitting.  I also like the palindromic nature of the word; it mirrors the palindromic, two-way-street condition exemplified by the relationship-web it describes.  Yes?  And, with a bit of etymological scrutiny we could conclude that the word is a combined form from the Latin prefix "en-" (to cause to be in) and the Latin stem "uni/e" (one, oneness).  Since enune ideally encompasses these ideas of "within" and "oneness", I, again, submit my enthusiastic two-thumbs-up approval for the fortuitous suitability of our newly born word.  Does it work for you?  Guess if you're in the "Negatory--Good Buddy!" camp, you have a choice to make.  Quit reading now.  Or, humor me--and temporarily allow my linguistic fantasy its due process.  Maybe you'll come around.  If you're among the "10-4, Copy that, Loud and Clear!" group, thank you--sincerely--for embracing my linguaphilic passions, and read on: experience the serendipity and strength and solace gained from strolling amid the enune-strewn meadows of our recent lives. 

*mid-January 2013: my dear mother's only sister--the most caring, doting, loving auntie ever, to every one of a couple of dozen or more nieces and nephews, I might add--spent some days in the local hospital, as respiratory and arthritic complications ganged up on her physical body.  So happens that my school is just an Olympian's stone's-throw away from the hospital, so stopping by to visit Auntie after school every day was easy to do--and so rewarding. I basked in the warmth of her unceasing and genuine care for me, and all her family (which--of course--to her included many more folks than those of us blessed to actually share bloodlines).  I gloried in her feisty wisdom, her reverent memories, her purity of passion and devotion for "kids" and "hard-work" and the faith in her God and Lord that holds it all together.  Despite the diseases' crippling warfare on her body, they were impotent against her spunky spirit.  Through the constant pain and discomfort, and the hyper-humbling condition of hospitalization--being the lifelong "doer" now requiring all the "doing"--Auntie remained dignified and calm and spirited, charming all her care-givers, and dinner-deliverers, and this-or-that-therapists that filtered through on their charitable duties.  And me!  I feel so blessed having had this opportunity to spend time with my Auntie, reacquainting, and rekindling a bond born in early childhood when our families were so-closely-knitted-together in time and space that many local townsfolk truly seemed in-cognizant of which of all us cousins (there were nine of us) belonged to which sister--Auntie or Mom.  May not have mattered to us all that much either, sometimes.   Needless to say, time has a way of altering childhood conditions, and adult life hadn't allowed ample togetherness with Auntie for the past few decades, so these solo visits in the hospital--several visits in the past few years--became my selfish pleasure.  I still feel guilty in a way for reveling in the "good fortune" of my visits brought about by her "unfortunate" health condition.  But the revelation that while the effects of time can seem severe to sensitive folks like me, they are rendered profoundly ineffectual against the stoic strength of "enunic" bonds shall remain forever imprinted in my psyche.  And I praise God for my special Auntie as the premiere and prevalent teacher of this important lesson on "enunity."

*later-January 2013: just four-and-a-half days after my last visit (a good five-hours on a very rare, blue-skied, sunshiny Saturday in January) my dear Auntie left her respiratorially encumbered and aching body behind and her soul went to party with her Creator in peace and jubilee.  As I left the hospital to pick up the beautiful bride after her work that Saturday and kissed Auntie's still enviably-rose-petal-soft-skinned forehead and announced my love for her, and consciously slowed my rushing pace to make certain I took in her response, "I love you too, Larry.", I never imagined it would be the last words I would hear her speak.  But, in reflection, since hearing a loved-one's last words is an inevitability for us, I now ponder, "Can it get any grander than that?"  Her life was celebrated a couple Saturdays later at a service of remembrance in the auditorium of the high school where she had dedicated countless hours of service--cheering, waiting, transporting, feeding, truly caring for--to a few generations of kids: her own children, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, grand-nieces/nephews, neighbor-kids, kids' friends, and many others whose hearts called her "Auntie" or "Gramma"--even when not familially connected.  A nephew-in-law (my brother-in-law) officiated at the service, and several of her grandchildren presented memorial tributes to their ever-so-special Grandma, including one granddaughter's touching and tuneful rendition of a Merle Haggard song that her Grandma had liked, soulfully presented as a clear, near-angelic, a-Capella melody.  A theme repeated throughout the service was how Auntie frequently praised her Grandma and Aunts and Uncles, declaring that, "If I can be half as good a Grandma (or Aunt, Uncle) as mine was, I'll be doing great."  Of course, the overwhelming consensus from all was that she had succeeded--with flying colors.  And, thus, the challenge then passes on to all of us; can we be as good an Aunt/Uncle as she was to us?  I accept the challenge, and am enraptured with any opportunity for practice in achieving this noble goal.  See why I think the palindromic quality is so fitting for enune?

*same day--later January 2013: and the day of Auntie's service was the very day I first began to  conceptualize this blog post expounding on the nature of enune.  Here's the enune-laden details.  It actually begins the evening before--on Friday--when the bride and I had arranged to spend the night doing dinner and movies with another special aunt.  This aunt is my dad's older sister, widowed a couple winters back, and she and Uncle never had their own children, so they also were always very devoted and special to a host of nephews and nieces.  After Uncle happened to win a VCR in a raffle several years ago, their pattern of watching movies together every evening began.  The pastime gradually developed into a passion over the years, and my aunt became a dedicated and discerning movie collector; her frequent thinning of the "watched-enough" titles and her ever-focused "junk sale" or thrift store pursuit for the elusive, desired John Waynes or early musicals has resulted in an impressive library of video entertainment, complete with inked tick-marks--or sometimes abbreviated dates--on the cardboard cases to track her viewing history of each title.  Since the bride and I also quite enjoy our movies, and spending time together with family is always fun--especially with special, widowed aunts, we made the dinner/movie night plans.  We left as soon as we could get everything together after school on Friday in order to make it to Aunt's comfortable, roomy home by her lifelong-routine 5 p.m. dinner hour.  We did need to call to warn her that we were running a bit late, but we did make it by 5:30 or so.  The home-cooked, lovingly-prepared meal was very tasty, of course. And the collection of crystal or ornate cut-glass vases, candy dishes, creamers, etc, that ever occupy the edge of Aunt's table shimmered brilliantly in the refracting light from the dining-room chandelier overhead.  But this fulfillment and illumination at the dining table proved to only be pale reflections of the more lasting and profound fulfillment and the brighter, deeper illumination occurring within our souls as we steeped in Aunt's gentle wisdom, inner strength, and devoted nature.  Later, while I perused Aunt's decades' worth of dedicatedly kept-up photo albums, the bride and Aunt went downstairs to select the movies we would watch.  The better fraction of an hour later they ascended with a few choices, and a bit more discussion concluded with a Gene Kelly musical, "An American in Paris," and the 1948 John Wayne classic, "Red River," as our evening's entertainment.  The bride and I had never viewed either of them, and Aunt knew the western was definitely one to re-watch, and had watched the dancing film, but couldn't  remember it clearly, so another go-around was fine.  We watched the musical first--light and truncated on plot, heavy with elaborately-set, lengthy dance routines, and we finished up with John Wayne in the wee hours.  Fun night at the movies--even had popcorn somewhere in the span of hours!  Enjoyed a relaxing Saturday morning, late rising, light breakfast, and early leisurely lunch with Aunt, before we left to head into town for other Auntie's memorial service.  Of course, family abounded at the service accompanied by hugs and handshakes and whispered words of comfort as we communally remembered a remarkable life and grieved a too-early passing.  It was following the post service meal and gathering that our day developed into a doubly-exposed image of enunity.  My oldest niece and her husband had bought and semi-moved-into a new house in town that we hadn't been to, so we accepted the offer to come over for tea and have a look at their place.  Two of her sisters (nieces #3 and #5) and #3's husband were leaving her place shortly after we arrived.  Need to let you know that this niece and her husband are tea enthusiasts on par with us, so there's an extra dosage of bonding going on when having tea together.  Her unique mugs and ornate iron teapot and a flavorful, herby, whole-leaf blend added to the pleasure and ambiance of "taking tea" with our niece.  Midway through our first delightful mugs, nieces 3 and 5 and accompanying husband suddenly returned to the second-level abode.  Seems they were fueling up when they noticed the occupant of the neighboring pickup truck kept a very startling companion; seeing the apparently very large python-like serpent writhingly embrace its master's head, neck, arms was quite unnerving for the young ladies, so they returned to sister's to calm themselves a bit--and a mug of hot, aromatic tea would be just the thing.  So we sipped our soothing tea, socialized a bit more, and soaked-in the enune-induced solace. All three nieces are charming, cheerful, and delightful souls so fun to spend time with.  Truly an enunically-effervescent day!

*A couple weeks later-early/mid February 2013: wanted to have a bit of  together-time with the son, so made plans for a quick visit with him on the weekend before his birthday.  His Saturdays are filled with scheduled activities--hours of D&D gaming, lengthy strategy-training sessions to prepare for the campus Humans versus Zombies tag game--so no need to arrive before having a chance to visit him in the evening.  And we're in the habit of leaving home after work on the day before--just for the extended-vacationality of it.  So, since we planned to spend Friday night a couple hours son-ward in the city where my nephew (#2) and his bride live, we arranged to meet them for dinner.  When we called soon after pulling in to town, we agreed with their suggestion to eat at a Thai noodle restaurant.  None of us were experts on Thai cuisine but our dinner choices proved to be both tasty and filling.  And as I know you've come to expect from me by now, while I do always savor ethnic flavors, and truly did enjoy this flavorful Thai dinner, the true and deeper delight of our evening was the enunic camaraderie.  Newly-wedded (around 10 months now) Nephew and Niece-in-Law are easy-going, charismatic, caring, and down-to-earth folks who--we presently learned--also happen to be "movie-fans", so our dinner conversation was a smorgasbord of sharing about jobs, university classes, family, movies, travels, and other interesting whatnot.  After we parted in the parking lot, exchanged "see-you-later" hugs (I tromped on sweet Niece's toes--So sorry!) and sent them on their way with Valentine's treat bags of freshly baked monster cookies, beautiful bride and I were in total agreement as we clicked our safety belts in place and near-simultaneously commented to each other, "They're sure cool, good kids."

*Next day, same city: after a brisk, few-mile walk along the river, we waited near a downtown eatery for another niece (#2) and her husband and their super-adorable year-old son.  They were temporarily living down the highway a ways but planned to come in on this weekend, and since we were in town and had a few more spare hours before heading on to see son, we made plans to have lunch with them.  Turns out that the cafe where we'd decided to meet was also the choice of hordes of other local folks on this mild, nearing-Spring Saturday, so we opted to try a different establishment rather than wait.  Actually, we wandered the neighboring blocks to three or four possible dining locales before finding one that was open for the lunch hours.  Fun, historic building, very welcoming and friendly atmosphere, and plenty of unique menu choices made it a serendipitous option in the end.  I know I liked the meal, although I can't remember what I ate.  The endearing enunity of the afternoon trumped the needed memory space, I guess, as we shared and connected with this beautiful young family.  I even got to assist grand-nephew with eating his lunch, so after his rousing game of "I Drop-You Retrieve" with the plastic-coated mini-spoon, and amid wide-eyed, crinkly-nosed grins and non-stop "let-me-help" hand action, we managed to get him an ample supply of natural and nourishing cereal/fruit puree.  After lunch we extended our visit a bit as we all trekked down the block to a park and playground to play with sweet baby grand-nephew.  He really enjoyed drumming on the music pipes, and climbing up and sliding down the slides.  Again, rampant appreciation, and awe and pride--enunic emotion--bubbled within me as we hugged our good-byes; so grateful that we have opportunities to connect with family in this way, and so thankful that our busy, brilliant, charming, youthful nieces and nephews (and spouses) are willing to make the time for the perhaps selfish whims of a perhaps hyper-emotional "old" uncle and his dear, caring, innocent bride.

*Two weekends later--mid/late February: during a quick overnight visit up to my folks' place, we were accompanied on a winter trek through the woods by nephew #4.  He's an energetic, caring, outdoorsy early-teen and had strapped on his x-country skis while we were using snowshoes, so his progress was much quicker than ours (never mind the few decades age difference) and he constantly, patiently stopped to wait for us every several-dozen yards during our "across the crick and through the bottom" journey.  Good time together.  He also is a brilliant musician, so we always enjoy his impromptu violin performances and he often has plenty of questions or points of discussion for his musically-gifted Auntie--my sweet bride.  Another of his passions is languages and cultures of the world, so since we have some international experiences, we enjoy connecting with him in these realms as well.  What a super fun and loving kid that we are blessed having as a nephew!

*Same weekend +: after services on Sunday, we re-journeyed to connect with dear Niece #2 and wonderful husband, who a few days earlier had become parents to a second baby-boy.  There were some neonatal complications, so the baby was admitted to the hospital.  My sister was with her daughter helping care for first grandson so Niece and husband could tend to new baby's needs at the hospital.  We wanted to be of help and support for anyone we could, so we decided to make the drive.  We made contact with Sister on the way down and learned where to find them all, so we converged on them for that evening and part of the next day.  We tag-team accompanied whoever was over at the hospital in baby's room and back at the Ronald McDonald house for support that evening, visiting and helping however we could.  It is very hard watching loved ones go through such intense, stressful experiences, but so impressive witnessing the strength and wisdom and insight with which they endure. And grace.  Despite our uninvited "invasion" on their private emotional moments, Niece and her husband (and Mom and Dad--my sister and brother-in-law) remained welcoming, and appreciative and gracious.  We were happy to be able to provide some groceries and have a bit more time with them before returning home on Monday.  Baby underwent a surgery and resided in the NICU for several weeks before released, so we went down again a couple weeks later.  Brought take-out Chinese for dinner when we showed up that evening, and I got to cuddle little-one for quite awhile when we went over to his room with his Momma.  Awesome.  Beautiful.  Miracle.  The family needed to move from the home where they were temporarily living while awaiting baby's arrival, but since they were more-importantly occupied with their newborn at the hospital, the bride and I came down this time primarily to do what we could to help pack-up and clean, so the house could be more easily vacated and ready for new incoming renters when their deadline date came later in the week.  We made the better-part-of-an-hour's drive down the highway to the unique house in the foothills with Sister's directions from the passenger seat while Brother-in-law followed after stopping for a few groceries at a market on the way.  The bride and I had a pleasant, sunshiny jaunt around the gravel/muddy roads the next morning after Brother-in-law's tasty sausage and egg breakfast, and before dismantling, packing, and vacuuming as much as we could in the house.  We returned to hospital town in the afternoon, ate tasty, skillfully-crafted, deli-style turkey sandwiches freshly assembled by Nephew-in-law, and enjoyed a few more radiant grins, contagious giggles and amusing antics from gorgeous grand-nephew #1 before bidding our adieus and driving home.  Enunical encounter overload, you wonder?  I respond, boldly and resoundingly, "No!"

*So, let me briefly amplify just a couple more momentous enunical encounters from the past months before I finally conclude this over-long post.  First was a quick overnight stay from Nephew-in law #1 (getting tricky here, I know.  He's not my oldest nephew-in-law, but IS the husband of my oldest niece; the tea enthusiasts from a few paragraphs up.)  Anyway, he was flying out early one morning on job-related travel, so phoned to ask if he could spend the night before at our house (10 minutes from the airport) to provide for more sleep and less stress on his travel morning.  We welcomed his company and occupation of our spare bed, and were ready for him the evening he came.  He had called as he was leaving home and was somewhat later arriving than should likely have been.  When I inquired, he confessed that, yes, he had gotten lost a bit trying to find our place in the dark, but also recounted how he'd been detained by an officer curious why he failed to dim his headlights as soon as he ought have.  "Nephew" humbly explained that since their own car's headlamps lacked insufficient brilliance on high-beams, that he was out of the habit of dimming, and he disremembered that he was driving a company vehicle that didn't suffer the same mal-illuminating condition.  Apparently, the explanation sufficed and the officer chose not to ticket his traffic faux-pas.  We, of course, served him a mug of tea--he'd eaten dinner with his dear wife before leaving home--and as he sipped the hot brew to soothe the stresses of his evening, he related how this was the third or fourth time he'd been stopped in the past few weeks for seemingly insignificant cause; none of them had resulted in a ticket, just warnings and clarifications.  We talked a bit about movies, TV shows, and his job before we convinced him that if he really planned to bank up sleep time, he needed to go to bed.  We heard him leave in the dark morning hours but he'd assured us we needn't get up, so we didn't.  Hope he had a good and profitable business trip; haven't talked to him since--but we feel honored that he was comfortable asking and staying with us.  And, finally, I need to mention how blessed it's been the past few months having Niece #5 slide into the pew next to us for worship services on Sunday mornings or Wednesday evenings.  Vivacious, outgoing, caring--nearly always adorned with a wide bright smile, her sweet presence with us in church deepens the impact of Worship serving as a model for the "communion of saints" we'll experience when we reach Heaven.  And, its just so fun to have more constant contact with her and learn about the rest of the family, and be uplifted by her always cheerful, optimistic approach to life.  We even managed to find one Sunday when her active friend/family-filled, social life allowed her time to have lunch with us after church.  What a delight, having the chance for casual connectivity, and, though the brilliance of the enunity deeply dims my recollections of the meal, I am guessing the food was tasty and pleasant too. 

So, can you believe the wonder and grandeur of our enune-strewn meadows?  Truly an awesome and miraculous gift from God, huh?  Praying you also discover your life glimmering with the precious treasures of enunity!         

"Parentality"

Yeah--it's not really a word, yet.  But you may have noticed that I tend to do that fairly frequently: use sensible non-words to more precisely convey my intent.  Guess you can decide for yourself how to process the etymology. . . maybe it's a slick combo for "parental" + "mentality", or could be "parent" + "reality."   Or, possibly--logically-- it's simply the noun that names the honorable position of being a parent, and deciding how to deal with all the emotions, questions, doubts, and wonderings that accompany this noble state. Makes no difference which etymological theory you choose adherence to, my musings on our current condition of "parentality" are thus recorded for your enlightenment, amusement, information, boredom. . . you choose.

Well, the six-ish weeks that Princess was home--of course--seemed to fly by and she needed to board the train for her return on New Year's Day.  And son was home for just three weeks before we drove him back on the first weekend of the year.  So, it's only been a few weeks that we've been back to the "empty" status of our current lives.  Vibrant, bustling, home-filled togetherness to quiet, comfortable "just-the-two-of-us"-ness in nothing flat: almost gives a guy head rush!

And in this zooming, vacuum-ous state of mind, I am constantly wondering.  Ranging from the pseudo-philosophical, to the parentally logical, to the ridiculously sentimental--and the whole windy road between. . .

• Why does their "at home" time pass at a multiply accelerated rate compared to the "away" time?
• When will I feel that the quiet and emptiness is the comfortable norm?
• Does the "need" to know all that I can about what's going on for them each day ever abate?
• How about that touch of "panic" when I realize that their "growing up, at home" days are essentially finished, and it's too late to remedy it if I've failed in teaching them what they "need-to-know" for life? 
• How come no one's yet invented a way to digitally transport needed hugs?
• Why are the borders between "stalker-ish hyper-involvement" and "allow-them-their-independence" and "figure-it-out-for-yourself, honey" so oblique and wavery?
• When is it okay to change the condition of their unoccupied bedroom?
• Will they really think to dress warm enough for the very cold, wintry conditions they have now and again?
• Are their roommates really unaffected by them staying up with the lights on for most of the night?
• Is there anyone there for them to REALLY listen and care about their brilliant ideas, random creative thoughts, and personal ponderances?
• Is it ironically selfish that I enjoy that fixing dinner seems easier now that their opinions don't need to be considered, yet, I still worry if they are remembering to take the time to eat, and hope they are making basically healthy choices?
• Who picks up their dirty clothes from the bathroom floor?
• How come I don't find myself accomplishing so much more since they are not home to occupy time with?
• Did we spend the right amount of time on the right things in their growing up so that they have a proper and beneficial perspective, and grounding memories and traditions to develop from?  
• Is he apprehensive about what his future holds after graduation this spring, or just relieved to take a break from classes for awhile and excited about the possibilities?
• Will she officially declare "English" as her major this spring term?
• Will I always experience the throat-constricted pangs of the "lonesome" moments and the heart-jumping, "can't-catch-my-breath" response to seeing there is email from them? 
• How can their college experience be so radically different than mine?  It's only 30 years. . .
• Is "coming home" a cozy, familiar, relaxing pleasantry for them, or an obligatory, freedom-infringing, intrusive sentence to be endured?
• Where will they eventually end up with their job?  And can we get cheap, convenient travel there? 
• Finally, do their friends, acquaintances, and professors truly comprehend and appreciate the amazing, brilliant, creative and caring individuals they are?

And, so, we ponder the perpetuity of our parentality.  Any experiential advice, answers, awarenesses, or comments are very welcomed.  Blessings to you all--parents and kids too!