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.

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14 thoughts on “A Guest for Lunch

  1. I have one child (23) living at home and the other (27) living away. Those images of the child and the adult constantly flash before me whenever I’m in conversation with them, whether face to face or on the phone.

  2. “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 love this line. The view of your son through your eyes is a precious view- one to be savored.

  3. Oh-My son came home for a few days last week, too, & your words made me teary as I felt the feelings you shared. I love that you said ‘was the sun brighter today?’ and ‘If this were a musical, I would be singing’. You told just enough to make us want more but to satisfy too, as you expressed at the end. Lovely words!

  4. grade4wizard says:

    I like how you said that the smile on your face reflected the smile in your heart. I hope that the next lunch is not very far in the future.
    Terje

  5. I LOVE the ending of your piece. What a gorgeous sentiment about your little boy, I mean, grown son.
    Those cookies look delicious. Can you email me the recipe?

  6. What a wonderful post. I could feel the excitement in your preparations–that’s what food can do for the anxious heart. I’m so glad you felt pride when he left–what an accomplishment for him and for you as a parent. I am curious about the Monte Cristo au Gratin!

  7. What a great Slice Elsie, especially on an empty stomach. I want one of those cookies. A brief meal with your son. So brief but filled with quality.
    As a reader, I sat at the table too hoping for more, enjoying the moment.
    Bonnie

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