Chapter Eighteen, The Mother Son College Odyssey

 I set the alarm for 5:30 this morning. Went to bed after midnight. We were careful to quietly organize our things and bring our giant suitcases downstairs. But then I realized I didn't have the car keys. I took everything out of my purse twice. Then a third time. I looked in the car. I went upstairs and searched the room--even though I really hadn't unpacked anything. I tore up the bed. I searched the bathroom. Charlotte woke up and she started searching. She woke up her brother and he checked his pockets. Charlotte searched her purse.

Then Eli reached in his pocket and announced, "I have the keys!' He's unloaded the trunk of the car and never given them back to me.

On the way to the airport I started humming. This isn't unusual. It's a trait passed down from my father to me to Eli and Lizzy--randomly humming or even breaking into song without realizing it consciously. The odd thing is I was humming God Bless America. Before I knew it, I was juggling the organic date scone I bought at Whole Foods and belting out, "God Bless America, Land That I Love...." Pretty soon, Eli was humming it, too.

Chapter Seventeen, The Mother Son College Odyssey

It's the last night of our trip. We went out for a great Tibetan meal in Marblehead and ate yak dumplings.

It took us three hours to make it to Marblehead. We alternated between NPR and right wing radio on 90 heading east. My dad introduced me to right wing radio when we went on car trips, and now I'm passing the tradition on to Eli. "You've got to know what the other side is thinking," I told him.

We arrived in Marblehead around six. Charlotte and Alan live in a large wooden house built by a ship captain; the whole house feels and looks like the inside of the ship. Charlotte's brother, Charles, a painter, is here on a visit from Florence, Italy where he runs a painting school. He's lived abroad for more than 30 years.

Alan was our cook, and a marvelous one at that--a delightful fish chowder, spectacular salad, great bread with olive oil and hot peppers, and a luscious fruit salad. Eli entertained us through dinner. At least he entertained me. There's nothing like a fresh, shiny, young brain, the innocence and vitality of youth, especially when compared to older more used up models--the rest of us at the table.

Chapter Sixteen, The Mother Son College Odyssey

Last night, Robin cooked some incredible curried chicken on the grill. She made a tandoori marinade made with a recipe from her deceased husband. The three of us sat outside at a little round table and ate sweet, spicy barbequed chicken, salad and roasted naan. Robin started regaling Eli with stories about when we met and how we met at conference and did workshops on sexual abuse and trauma together, back in the years when The Courage to Heal was in its heyday. She started telling him stories about how famous I was 20 years ago and what an incredible impact The Courage to Heal had in starting a whole social change movement. “Did you know your mom started a whole social and political movement?” “

 “No,” he replied.

“Do you know the impact her work has had all over the world?”

“No.”

“Did you know that your mom used to travel around and that she had groupies who just wanted to touch her and be around her?”

“No.”

“Do you know that she had to register in hotels under assumed names so no one would know she was there?”

“No!”

She was funny and dramatic and Eli’s jaw dropped in amazement. He kept laughing and repeated over and over, “You had groupies?” And that just egged Robin on to tell another story. She told stories about things I’d either forgotten about completely or hadn’t thought about in twenty years.

Chapter Fifteen, The Mother Son College Odyssey

I'm starting this post from the waiting room at the Admissions Office of Amherst College. Eli is sitting across the room, writing an english essay. He sat in on an advanced chemistry class while I visited the financial aid office (Amherst is the only school we visited that offered a meeting at financial aid--and I can see why--they have a generous, transparent financial aid program--what you see is what you get. It was a very educational meeting, to learn how financial aid works and to see how all the factors fit together.) Eli came in from his class. "How was it?" I asked.

"I didn't understand a word of it."

"Do you want to sit in on something else this afternoon?"

"No, I'm done sitting in on classes." He opened his laptop and started on his homework.

"Do you want some lunch?"

"No, I'm okay." He put his head back down, uncommunicatively. But he is communicating. I can hear him. He's done. He wants to go home.