the best phone call ever had by this innkeeper.
A few Decembers ago, one of my sons was wrapping up a winter quarter at college. We converged, this son, my two younger ones and I. Dinner was had at an Elephant Bar Restaurant in Fremont. I lived in that city, then.
It was a rare time of us convening. The collegiate son was in the midst of a course load of 18 units, while working 30 hours a week as a manager and maintaining a relationship with a girlfriend. Additionally, he presided over the local chapter of the American Marketing Association (he was a business major) and was involved with his wide circle of friends, many of whom he's known since kindergarten. His positive and considerate---but take charge---personality made him popular.
For three hours, we encamped at the restaurant. When we were finished, I gave a sixty percent tip, a fair rental price for us hogging the table. For two hours and fifty minutes, my sons Josiah, Micael and Pablo Jr. revealed what was alive with them. These normally reserved young men were like care-free puppies, exuberantly sharing details about their lives.
Attentively, I listened, asking follow-up questions, proud that these three kind, intelligent young men were my sons. I smiled, nodding my head as I connected with their tales. As the time was wrapping up, I asked, "Can I say something?"
"Sure," they replied.
For less than ten minutes, I spoke about something that helped me become who I wanted to be. I didn't preach. My days of instructing them were long gone. They were older than sixteen, making them my peers. I simply talked about something that made me happy.
The next day, Pablo Jr., the busiest son, the one detailed above, called.
"Dad," he said, a smile shone in his voice as he spoke, "I was wondering if we can get together more often. I like it when we talk."
Whenever I think about this call, I tear up.
This son with a demanding schedule, this young man who worked night and day, sometimes getting three to four hours sleep while finishing college, who had plenty of friends, along with a lovely girlfriend, wanted time with his dad. Never have I received a greater compliment.
Thank you for dropping by, letting me share this story. Thank you, Pablo Jr., for wanting to be my friend.
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| The Elephant Bar restaurant in Fremont |
Attentively, I listened, asking follow-up questions, proud that these three kind, intelligent young men were my sons. I smiled, nodding my head as I connected with their tales. As the time was wrapping up, I asked, "Can I say something?"
"Sure," they replied.
For less than ten minutes, I spoke about something that helped me become who I wanted to be. I didn't preach. My days of instructing them were long gone. They were older than sixteen, making them my peers. I simply talked about something that made me happy.
The next day, Pablo Jr., the busiest son, the one detailed above, called.
"Dad," he said, a smile shone in his voice as he spoke, "I was wondering if we can get together more often. I like it when we talk."
Whenever I think about this call, I tear up.
This son with a demanding schedule, this young man who worked night and day, sometimes getting three to four hours sleep while finishing college, who had plenty of friends, along with a lovely girlfriend, wanted time with his dad. Never have I received a greater compliment.
Thank you for dropping by, letting me share this story. Thank you, Pablo Jr., for wanting to be my friend.
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2 comments:
Your son sounds like a remarkable young man. It's good that you can be close to them and share openly.
Hi there, Syd,
I agree with you, he's an amazing young man. I hope to become like him. I do encourage him, though, to make time for himself. He does.
I'm thankful that he's a part of my life. I'm very fortunate. Wishing everything goes well, as you continue working on your home.
From one coast to the other,
The Innkeeper
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