It was a fairly uneventful trip home. No delays, no mechanical failures of the aviation sort (that's a biggie with me, I hate flying and someday I'll tell you why). I ordered wine, watched a movie, read a book, surfed the Net. On my flight from Seattle to Anchorage was a friend from the church we used to attend and who we still remain in some contact with in an oblique sort of way. A pilot for Fed Ex, he is also dad to three daughters and a former Air Force officer. A very no-nonsense sort of guy who's values mesh perfectly with mine.
It was harder to say goodbye to Wolf this trip, in part because I knew it could be the last time I spent multiple days with the wonderful individuals who have nurtured and cared for my son, but also in part because Wolf and I had such a "normal" sort of visit. Time spent as any teenage boy and his mom would; I nag about pants hanging too low, hair being too long, socks being dirty and he rolls his eyes and laughs.
Nice to talk to another parent about all that; the joyous trial of mom or dad-dom, and receiving validation that Yukon and I, for all the doubts of Wolf's lifetime, are not bad people. I think every parent goes through that in the child-rearing process at one point or another (or more often perhaps).
But it was nice to hear from someone else....