Everyone here is gorgeous inside the Valkyrie night club.
The lights are dim. Maybe that’s why.
Ladies wear their hair long. There are lots of skin-tight dresses and hot pants with six-inch heels that prance around as if they own the place. Me? I have on my long black printed dress with two-inch heels. This is my go-to outfit when I attend a bible class.
Slowly I sip my drink and glance all around me. I am fascinated by how the ladies can wear these sky-high heels. They might fall and break a hip. Then what?
I can feel the energy and anticipation of how the night might unfold as the dancers move to the beat of Michael Jackson’s Rock With You.
I wanna ROCK with you . . . aaaalll night . . .
My last night in Manila we had dinner at an Italian restaurant. Christopher’s friends and basketball teammates joined us, too.
I had angel hair pasta, truffles with prosciutto, and red vino to sip and savor all evening.
About half of them had their cellphones on the table and were busy checking whatever it was that was urgent. Probably, Twitter accounts. They would look down at their cell, then look up to talk, and then look down again.
I didn’t take this behavior as rude. It was just my observation–these young heads moving up and down. It is what it is. This is my son’s generation. They do not detox from their electronic devices. Ever.
The cellphone is now part of the table setting.
After our past a dinner, would you believe they asked me to go clubbin’ with them? Again!
I told them, “I’m flattered you desire my company and I know you all love me, but think I will pass. I gotta go pack.”
“No, stay up all night.” They pleaded.
“All night? ” The last time I stayed up ALL night, you all weren’t even born and Ronald and Nancy were living in the White House.
“You can go straight to the airport.” They egged me on.
I smiled. What a bunch of fun people! They want me to stay up with them.
Oh, to be 25 years old again. I wouldn’t mind having firmer buttocks and one less chin. I would love to see my waistline and have more energy. But, I would want to hold on to my wisdom–the stuff I know now. My strength, my surrendered spirit, and to know that I’m not in control. God is. And that is my truth.
Inside my son’s condo, I began to pack and wished he and his family lived close by. However, I noticed that I felt proud of my ability to accept. I can let go of my young adult offspring.
Part of me wanted to stay longer and part of me was ready to go home.
What got to me was missing Napoleon waking up at 7 a.m. ready to play. I would miss his screaming for milk and to be carried. Though my back ached from carrying him. I would miss putting him to sleep in my arms while singing silly songs.
Looking on the bright side, I “get to” do this–visit my son for two weeks. For this, I’m grateful.
My son and his girlfriend asked me to extend my stay. I thought, How sweet. If only I had no penalty changes related to changing my departure flight . . . I wouldn’t mind another three days of sunshine, tank tops, and limp hair.
I know this: I believe God hears us when we pray. Those times before a vacation, he knows we want to see our children filled with love, closeness, and laughter.
When my son asks me to stay longer, I know I must have done a few things right in my parenting.
FYI–for parents visiting their grown up kids and staying with them–my advice is: Know when to arrive and when to exit.
Fish start to smell bad when left too long in the refrigerator, ya know?
Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light for my path.
Thank you for going ahead of me on my trip and for lighting my path.
I had no vertigo episodes, no sickness on the plane, and just a few headaches due to too much red wine. It was nothing that two Tylenol couldn’t cure.
Thank you for the time I had to get to know my son and his family and for the time spent hanging out with his friends.
I pray for all the parents out there who visit their grown up sons and daughters this holiday season.
May the time of being together be full of laughter, great conversations, and thankful hearts.