Phone Call

Last night my son called. He lives in California, 3,000 miles away from me. To the world, he’s a grown man. To me he’s still my little boy.  Sunday is the day he usually calls me and we chat about life in general. It fills my need to hear his voice and know that everything is right in his world. He didn’t call this week. Sometimes that happens. I wait . . .

His special ring began to play on my phone sitting beside me. I smile as I answer the phone. We talk a few minutes. I tell him that his uncle’s house has sold. He is surprised that it has sold so quickly.

Then the words that changed my evening of a pleasant chat to one of fear and dread came through the phone, “I’ve got something to tell you.” Fear grabs my heart, my stomach lurches as I brace myself for whatever, because the tone was not one of good news. “Allie’s purse was stolen yesterday from her desk.” He goes on to explain everything that was in her purse.

The only key to the truck she was driving, her social security card, all bank cards, keys to the house and his car. Fortunately she had her phone in her pocket. He had to leave work to go pick up the daughter from school, then come to get  Allie. Once home, they began the task of calling credit card companies and banks. Someone had to be called to make a key for the truck ($400). A new deadbolt was installed on the front door. There is fear that whoever took the purse will come to their home and steal their car. Unfortunately they do not have a garage.

Allie went to the bank and was told that someone tried to withdraw $5,000 from her account. They do not have that kind of money. Fortunately the teller asked for identification. The person did not have any. The teller asked security questions. The person failed. She was denied access to the account (thank goodness!)

He feels violated. He feels angry that someone has caused their lives to be turned upside down. He is frustrated that they have had to bear expenses that were not in the budget. He is grateful that no one is hurt. He knows that things can be replaced.

No matter how old your child is, you want their world to be perfect. It makes me sick to think of what they have been through these past two days. I wish I could make it all better.

A Guest for Lunch

In early August, my son (who lives in Irvine, California) said, “Mom, I think I might be coming to the midwest for work at the end of the month or first of September.” That news put a smile on my face for a week. It was still a go the next week when we talked. But as time passed the project was postponed week after week, until last week. “I’m driving the company truck and I will leave Saturday. So I should be there by lunchtime on Monday,” he announced.

Was the sun brighter today? Today my son will be here for lunch. If this were a musical, I would be singing as I prepared for the lunch. Monte Cristo au Gratin sandwiches were on the menu and Monster Cookies for dessert. Yum!

Monster Cookies for dessert.

The text sound binged on my phone and the message said, “Got a bad start this morning. Be there around 12:45. Hope that is okay.” What choice is there, of course this will be okay. Not ideal, but he lives 2,000 miles away, so lunch will be later. Everything will be later.

I have to leave after lunch for a 270 mile drive across the state for work tomorrow. My original plan was to be on the road around 2:00, but that didn’t happen.

After lunch we got a short tutorial on geophysics and the projects he was working on. I nodded as if I understood, but it was way over my head. When I looked at my son, I didn’t see the young adult sitting in the recliner, I saw the little boy who would continually drag home a backpack of  “cool” rocks. I know there was a smile on my face which reflected the smile in my heart.

Eight years ago when he drove away from our home to start a life in California my heart was breaking. Today when he drove away to continue his journey for his work, my heart was full of pride for the person he became.