My solution to 'mother angst' was simple: I would send her a postcard every day. She would recieve them several weeks later, but they would be coming more or less consistently, thus allaying her worst fears. Unfortunately, had I been kidnapped by white slavers, this would hardly be current, but it kept her off my back. My mother, a classic packrat, saved every postcard, and every letter. I found them when I was visiting Winnipeg and rummaging through some old boxes. I was delighted to recall the adventures of the novice traveller.
The challenge is, is to remember where and when, But these early letters express the beginning of what became my dromomania and islomania.