I talked to Dylan yesterday. He didn't sound happy. He's not the kind to sit on the phone discussing his feelings with his mother. It may have been the root canal. He'd just left the dentist office just shortly before I called. He was not happy about the fact that the anaesthetic was wearing off and, contrary to the dentist's claims, he was feeling pain. He's not much into feeling pain. To make matters worse, he's an electrician and his plant is on shutdown. All the maintenance folks use this down time to make repairs and put in new equipment. Attendence is mandatory. They work long hours. The pay is good, but money does not mean much when your mouth is killing you. So, maybe that was it. I'll talk to him later, when he's not so ornery. I'm concerned about him. He's a stable and steady man. He'll work himself to death. I'm always telling him to make sure that he leaves himself time to make a life. I'm also always telling him, "Well, Dylan, if you aren't happy where you're at, you have a trade that will let you go anywhere you want." But Dylan doesn't want to start over again. He's seen the chaos of our family, a mother packing her family up and heading back to what she knew to begin again. He's seen his older sister begin again, and begin again, and begin again, on and on, ad infinitum. Dylan is a smart boy, and he knows a lot, but I find myself wondering if he understands that a new beginning doesn't always mean that you've failed.