I got the biggest surprise of my life last week. After working all day and doing volunteer work half the night, I came home to a blinking answering machine. It was blinking because someone had left me a message.
That was a mystery in itself, yet the real surprise was the person who left the message. Although, I must admit, he has called me several times, much to my chagrin as I always have had to say, “No son, I don’t have any money to loan you.”
This time was different, however. After arriving home around midnight, the message said to call him ASAP. No matter how late it was, he wanted me to call – it was urgent! Of course, my first thought was something is wrong with the children. After all he only has six of the little darlings and so far each one has made a minimum of three trips to the emergency room for various bumps, bruises and childhood illnesses.
I even entertained the idea that there might be a problem with his father (the ex), but I don’t think he would bother me with something that trivial.
I dialed his number knowing that I would wake him and my daughter-in-law, but he said it was urgent. Besides, it’s kind of fun waking them up –especially since the youngest of the six precious children finally fell asleep.
The phone rang just a few short rings (shorter than I expected) and dear son answered with a sleepy “hullo”.
“Hi there, sweetie,” I said gaily with a lilt in my voice. “What’s the problem? Is something wrong?”
My son, the fastest mouth in the West, the smart-aleck of the 21st century, the biggest clown of the decade and the all around horse’s butt of the 90’s and beyond said, “Mom, I was worried about you. I haven’t heard from you in weeks and I just wanted to make sure you were OK.”
Stunned silence on my end. I was in shock. I was completely flabbergasted and bewildered. I answered with a, “Well of course I’m OK”. After all I spoke to the boy only last month.
To hear this from the son who couldn’t wait to get away from his mother is an event that should be recorded in the Guinness Book of World Records under the category of “sons who have called their mothers because they care” – a category that probably has very few entries!
This is the boy who would complain because I attended all of his after-school functions, begging me to “please stay home this time”.
This is the same son who wrote one letter in a year, 12 whole months, while stationed in Japan during his brief stint in the Navy. This is the son, who upon returning to the States, finally called me – two months later.
Does this mean he’s growing up at last? Does this mean he is being affected by the fatherhood of five children? Is he finally becoming that responsible, caring, compassionate son I’ve always dreamed about? John-Boy, where are you (for those of you who remember Walton’s Mountain)?
I have a feeling, however, that next week, or even tomorrow, my son will be back to normal. But until that time, I’m going to bask in the glowing knowledge that, if only for a moment, he really does care about his mom.
That was a mystery in itself, yet the real surprise was the person who left the message. Although, I must admit, he has called me several times, much to my chagrin as I always have had to say, “No son, I don’t have any money to loan you.”
This time was different, however. After arriving home around midnight, the message said to call him ASAP. No matter how late it was, he wanted me to call – it was urgent! Of course, my first thought was something is wrong with the children. After all he only has six of the little darlings and so far each one has made a minimum of three trips to the emergency room for various bumps, bruises and childhood illnesses.
I even entertained the idea that there might be a problem with his father (the ex), but I don’t think he would bother me with something that trivial.
I dialed his number knowing that I would wake him and my daughter-in-law, but he said it was urgent. Besides, it’s kind of fun waking them up –especially since the youngest of the six precious children finally fell asleep.
The phone rang just a few short rings (shorter than I expected) and dear son answered with a sleepy “hullo”.
“Hi there, sweetie,” I said gaily with a lilt in my voice. “What’s the problem? Is something wrong?”
My son, the fastest mouth in the West, the smart-aleck of the 21st century, the biggest clown of the decade and the all around horse’s butt of the 90’s and beyond said, “Mom, I was worried about you. I haven’t heard from you in weeks and I just wanted to make sure you were OK.”
Stunned silence on my end. I was in shock. I was completely flabbergasted and bewildered. I answered with a, “Well of course I’m OK”. After all I spoke to the boy only last month.
To hear this from the son who couldn’t wait to get away from his mother is an event that should be recorded in the Guinness Book of World Records under the category of “sons who have called their mothers because they care” – a category that probably has very few entries!
This is the boy who would complain because I attended all of his after-school functions, begging me to “please stay home this time”.
This is the same son who wrote one letter in a year, 12 whole months, while stationed in Japan during his brief stint in the Navy. This is the son, who upon returning to the States, finally called me – two months later.
Does this mean he’s growing up at last? Does this mean he is being affected by the fatherhood of five children? Is he finally becoming that responsible, caring, compassionate son I’ve always dreamed about? John-Boy, where are you (for those of you who remember Walton’s Mountain)?
I have a feeling, however, that next week, or even tomorrow, my son will be back to normal. But until that time, I’m going to bask in the glowing knowledge that, if only for a moment, he really does care about his mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment