What a Trip!

 

Last Tuesday, Albert, Audrey, and I travelled to Philadelphia to visit Chris. He was just home a couple of months ago in June, and he’ll be back again in just a couple of weeks. So why haul ourselves all the way out to The Birthplace of America? Because Chris invited us. And when your twenty-something kid extends an offer to introduce you to his world, you jump at the chance.

It is not a leisurely jaunt to travel to the East Coast for a handful of days with the time change and 7-hour flights. We were anxious about COVID but even more about the side effects of acute insanity that seem to be plaguing many airline passengers these days. Fortunately, our trip was uneventful. I slept most of the way but still had enough time to watch about three hours of Impractical Jokers on the tiny back-of-the-seat tv. Even though I forgot to bring my headphones and watched with closed captions, the guys made me cry with laughter several times.

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We arrived in Philly mid-week and took it pretty easy for the first day or two. Chris had work to do, and Albert and I have seen most of the sights over the past four or five years. We explored the city a little bit with Audrey then met up with Chris Thursday morning to take the train to New York City for a couple of days. I anticipated some stress with travelling and staying in a hotel together and Chris being at the tail end of his school term. Over burgers and drinks, Chris admitted to us that he had been excited for our visit, but now that we were there, he didn’t want to be around us or in NYC.

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Just six months or a year ago, I probably would have tried to fix this, to make things better. But I’m learning to embrace these hard conversations. My son is feeling angry and crowded. Would I want him to pretend otherwise so as not to disappoint me or “ruin” the trip? Not in a million years.

Feelings offer super important information. Sometimes they’re uncomfortable, but it’s so important to allow ourselves to feel them, otherwise they fester and come back to bite us when we least expect it.

So I put my pride in my pocket and put on my listening ears. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad that you trust me enough to tell me these things.”

This didn’t make anything better. Chris felt guilty. He told me that he hated feeling this way and saying these things because he knew that I would always love him no matter what he might say or do. As messy as this moment was, I was filled with a deep joy.

When my kids were teeny-tiny babies, I whispered in their squishy little ears, “I love you so much. Never forget that because it will always be true.” It’s so easy to say that to a cute little baby. But then those babies start growing up and thinking their own thoughts and being different individuals than you are, and life gets complicated and frustrating and downright scary sometimes. I’m fifteen thousand percent certain that there were times that I acted unlovingly toward my children.

I would say that Chris has spent 90% of his life with a mom who was a much bigger asshole than I am today. Lucky for me that he doesn’t remember most of it, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t experience it. I would sure do a lot of things differently if I knew then what I know now.

While I was eager to love my children unconditionally in theory, I didn’t really know how to go about this, because I was too busy correcting and fussing and enforcing. Father Richard Rohr says this in his podcast “Another Name for Every Thing”:

“The only people who have the courage and the insight to work for change in a loving way are people who have experienced unconditional love themselves, unconditional acceptance…You don’t know how to receive things as they are without judgement until you have…been received that way. Then you sort of learn how to do it….what it feels like.”

So it made me feel really happy to hear that, even in his distress, Chris could articulate that he knows for certain that he is so loved and that nothing would ever change that. This got me thinking about where I first felt unconditional love. Who made me feel a million percent certain that they would never leave me or turn away from me no matter how incompetent or atrocious my behavior? Who kept coming back over and over? My kids.

There were many days I’m not proud of. Sometimes I cry when I think about the atrocities I committed on these little souls who trusted me so completely. Screaming, hitting, shaming. I didn’t know any better. And yet my kids kept coming back with those adoring eyes, patting my face with those sweet little hands full of grace that I did not deserve.

Acknowledging my mistakes helps me learn how to be better. It keeps me humble and so grateful that my children still want to be around me from time to time.

After a good night’s sleep and a lot of patience and grace from all parties, we Fus pulled it together and had a really nice trip. We ate our way through NYC starting with some fancy cocktails with light-up ice cubes with my newly-twenty-one-year-old baby.

Of course, we tried the pizza. We bought a whole cheesecake and just dug into it with four forks. Our hotel didn’t have a refrigerator, but that didn’t matter because we ate the whole thing.

The bagels were heavenly, fueling us for the whole morning as we jaunted about the Big Apple. We rode the Staten Island Ferry where a woman cussed me out for sitting too close to her. If you look really closely, you can see the Statue of Liberty.

We saw the New York Stock Exchange where I took a picture with my girl who knows a lot of things about money.

We spent almost a whole day at the 911 Memorial. It was A LOT but well worth the time and emotional energy.

We visited Central Park and I was giddy to see the Chinese Gardens and Central Park Fountain where the Impractical Jokers do a lot of their pranks.

Times Square was really quite a sight at night! On our last day, we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and enjoyed lobster rolls and lemonade.

We hopped on a train at Penn Station and skipped town right ahead of the flash floods and hurricane.

Sometimes having a good time is easy. But sometimes having a good time takes energy and intention. I’m grateful that we had the opportunity to share this experience together and to make these memories. My kids often express gratitude for the things I’ve taught them. I hope that they will one day recognize all the beautiful lessons that I learn from them.

Thank you for reading!