One of my sons called me last week – on his way home from work. We had a nice, substantive, fifteen-minute conversation. This is pretty much what we do now that he is married, a father, has a job with big responsibilities and a long daily commute.
The next night my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and saw his name again pop up. Automatically thinking something must be radically wrong, I dashed for my cell phone and answered his call within two rings.
“What’s the matter?” I immediately inquired. “What’s wrong?”
“Geez, Mom, nothing’s wrong.”
“But I just talked to you last night. Something must be up for you to call me two days in a row,” I insisted.
“Nah, all good. I just called to tell you a funny story,” he replied.
Here’s what he said: Earlier that evening, he had dinner with a friend he’s known a long time. This friend, my son emphasized, is a very smart guy. And he talks to his mom EVERY night on his way home from work for FORTY-FIVE minutes.
“No way,” I wailed. “What’s THE CATCH?”
“Well,” my son impishly admitted, “there is a catch. His mom, in her day, was a very bright shining star in the same field as my friend. And my friend gets her undivided attention on challenging issues with which he is grappling.”
Okay. I had two primary reactions to his story. None – BTW – that I am proud to admit.
The first was pure, unbridled anger. So now I have to be unqualifiedly brilliant to warrant a daily call from my adult sons? It’s not enough to have diapered, fed, chauffeured and diligently read to them every night? In addition to packing the healthiest lunches ever – most of which they traded away for Doritos and candy corn anyway.
And my second reaction was pure, unbridled envy: How can I get some of what she’s getting?
So I started thinking. What are my strengths? What do I have to offer to my sons that they cannot get elsewhere?
I have no musical talent whatsoever – even though my piano teacher did remark that my hands were great for piano playing, but lacked any sense of rhythm.
I can’t dance, draw or carry a tune.
I have a hard time keeping up with the progress of the mess in the Middle East, the revolving door of men being ousted from positions of power due to inappropriate sexual advances and the latest trades going on with my sons’ favorite baseball team now that spring training is looming.
As far as my proclivity for deductive reasoning? The first time I looked at a sample LSAT question, it took me about five minutes to decipher what in the world the question was asking. When one of my four sons who actually took the LSAT “gently” pointed out that it’s not only a challenging test, but timed, I thanked heaven they didn’t inherit my innate lack of logic. In my family, it is jokingly referred to as “Mom missing the obvious.”
So…… what do I have to offer my sons?
A willing ear to listen.
A person who has their best interest at heart.
A mom who loves them unconditionally.
And isn’t afraid to express a difference of opinion.
Just for the record, I’d like mothers of adult sons who do NOT live within driving distance to answer the following questions:
How often do you talk to your adult male child?
For how long?
When does he call?
My answers:
Once a week.
About fifteen mintues.
On his way home from work.
Seriously, the bottom line is – no matter what our answers – our adult sons (and daughters) are the fruits of our efforts. And if we are fortunate, they are busy, productive, and helping to heal our troubled, but still beautiful, world.
On the other hand, they can further heal our troubled, but still beautiful world, by picking up the phone to call home once in a while too.
Tee Hee.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor