Spring Burst & A Suitable Conclusion

Yesterday we saw our outdoor thermometers register a beautiful 84°. One day of that was just enough to make the crab apples, lilacs, and willow trees pop out with baby leaves. The forsythias also broke out in blooms and my weeping cherry tree’s bud casings fell off. In the next day or two its flowers should unfurl. It’s supposed to get cold again for the remainder of the week, but I don’t think we’ll have to worry about the temps dipping below freezing. It’s amazing what one really warm day in spring can do.

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The lad also called yesterday. That’s the third time in a week, which is something of a record. After he went back to school, following the March break, I didn’t try to contact him for two weeks. He was kind of feeling his oats a little bit. Then when I called, I got his voice mail and no response. I tried to reach him a couple more times that week and just got a bunch of silence. So...I decided to employ some basic psychology. I figured if anything noteworthy happened he’d either call me or his Dad would.

Three weeks passed and suddenly my phone began ringing. The first day he tried to call, I was out and I’d forgotten to take my cell phone with me. I was gone nearly all day. And I didn’t even know that he’d called until the next morning when I checked my caller id. No messages though. Later that day, he called again and I was out again. By this time he was getting a little concerned and left about six messages on my voice mail, which I didn’t recover until that night.

The next day we played telephone tag a couple of times and when we finally connected he yelled at me.

“Where have you been!?” he asked. “You haven’t called in three weeks. I was getting worried.”

“I called you three times, but you didn’t return any of them. I figured you were busy and would call when you got around to it,” I said.

“You should have returned my phone messages.”

“I was out and didn’t get them until last night. They are the first voice mails you’ve left.”

“You need to check your voice mail more often and then answer them,” he said.”

“May I remind you that you didn’t answer mine?”

“Well, that’s different.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I was worried.” he said.

“Well, now you know everything is fine. And I did send you an email this week.”

“Well, it’s not the same.”

That made me laugh right out loud. “Were you worried that I’d forgotten you?”

“No. Well, maybe. Yes. Could you please remember to take your cell phone with you when you’re out?”

“Yes, darling, I will.”

And since then he’s called three times just to make sure I’m here and answering his calls. He’s had a lot to discuss.

I just find that kind of amusing. It wasn’t my intention to drive him up a wall, but I figured when he was ready, he’d take the initiative. And he did. A subtle shift took place. Rather than the perception of Mom checking up on him, he’s come to the conclusion, all by himself, that it’s comforting to maintain ties with home—calling because he wants to rather than because he thinks it’s expected. That works a whole lot better and the quality of conversation improves with it.

With the perception of Mom checking up on him gone, he asked if I could call him once a week. You know, just to let him know that I’m thinking about him. Not a problem. I can do that. And letting each other know that messages were received even if with a voice mail or an email is quite acceptable, too. For both of us. I think that’s settled now.