After three years as a contract worker, my son was officially hired full time with benefits at his University.

He's been the gallery director in the art department since the University from which he graduated recruited him to work on a contract basis. He had no benefits and had to cover his own medical insurance. He worked long hours, did hard work, and was, as a result of one of his curatorial efforts, invited to go to China for several months to study a Chinese artist.

He lived with us for free during much of the time, and was able to put away a decent amount of money while planning the rest of his life. He finally left home a few months ago, just after a painful breakup with his first real love.

Finally, after a significant donation, the department - which has struggled financially - was able to create a permanent position. He's been moody and depressed in recent years, because of the uncertainty of with his future, and of course, most recently the intellectual, political, cultural, and moral collapse (and coming economic collapse) of the United States.

He had to go through the bureaucratic process of interviewing for the job he's been doing for years, did so, and was hired. He now has medical coverage - and what most excites him, dental coverage, paid vacation and what really, really, really thrills him, union membership.

It's been hard for me to speak with him in recent years because of his stress induced anger.

I had to call him on a technical issue yesterday, and he was a new man, his joy ringing through the conversation.

Today - this has never happened - he called me up, just to talk about his art, his work, the books he's reading, his thoughts on our country's struggle, his coming first date with a woman he met. In turn, it filled me with a happiness such as I have not known recently in these very stressful and frightening and in many ways appalling times, that my son is happy.

My sister-in-law visited, came with us to one of the best scientific lectures outside of my field I've ever attended, joined my wife and I for lunch with a good friend, saw people in the streets demonstrating for Ukraine, and then we spent two nights, Friday and Saturday having very nice wines before the fireplace, talked about my nephew's recovery from severe organic depression and how he kicked his pot habit, and my niece's thrill at her adventures in Italy.

It's a bad time, I know, and we had a few family downers on the periphery but this weekend for me, was personally, one worth living.

I wish you weekends as good as this one was for me.