Back now, I think.

I’m surfacing — the bionic man. After getting a second titanium knee a couple of weeks ago, I now have a matched set. I mention it only as an explanation for my failure to write much the last few weeks.

The last couple weeks have been a reminder of how hard it becomes to tend your duties when you don’t really feel “there” (or "here") for a while. I tumbled a few steps down Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. I’ve had a lot of interesting stuff going on in my head. I just haven’t wanted to sit down at the computer and tell you about them.

It’s reminded me of a weekend my wife and I once spend with our youngest son at his college. He was going through difficult times. (I remember those sorts of days well.) And his characteristic way of dealing with the outside world back then was wonderfully Scandinavian — he'd simply stop talking entirely.

My wife and I recognized the pattern immediately because her dad, a wonderful guy, was famous for not speaking for days at a time. And my wife … let’s just say conflict manage was not very creative early in our marriage. Here was I, compulsively needy about getting things settled and there was she up in bed, head under a comforter, trying to find some safe harbor from my anxiety. It was wonderful.

After a few years of that, I learned to stop pushing a bit which let her shorten the absences. We still run the same circle, but much more quickly. You can even be with us and not notice we've just had a brief tiff -- faster than a speeding bullet.

Getting back to that college weekend, after a day or so of “the great silence,” I threw one of those unhelpful, parental hissy fits (does anyone still use that idiom?). I remember yelling at him, actually just speaking quite firmly -- that really helps, ya know. The gist was, I know you’re feeling lost right now, but if you would just surface for a moment and say, “I’m hurting, is it OK if I don’t talk much right now?” you’d have us immediately on your side.

I imagine that speech crossed my wife’s mind a few times in the last couple weeks. But she lovingly restrained herself. And I’m coming back.