Boston is a place of special memories for me. Paul and I honeymooned there, helped with a Habitat for Humanity build after completing construction on our home, attended a marriage seminar, celebrated our anniversary, helped move our son Tim in eight years ago, sat in on Harvard Business School classes, attended HBS graduation, helped move Tim, visited churches, theaters and sampled a smorgasbord of Beantown eateries through thirty-three years.
Recently I made more deposits into my Boston memory bank, spending a long weekend with Tim. You’ll never guess what we did. I was able to express tangible care by helping my son clean, pack and move most of his worldly goods from one apartment to another in preparation for his marriage to Grace.
A friend driving to a conference near Boston had asked if she could deliver anything to Tim. First I thought of stuff to send the 300 miles, and then I thought of sending myself. I am glad I did.
My Jersey country boy has become a mature city man. In two days, my pedometer—and the aching soles of my feet—testified that we took more than 25,000 steps (nearly 8 miles) in a city with hills and a fourth-floor walkup apartment. Tim’s ability to navigate the streets and hard conversations were impressive. He gave me a tour, pointing out places where he had worked, where he had asked Grace to marry him and other special spots. I also heard him deal gracefully with several touchy issues in a way that helped the other person feel understood as well as understand why change was necessary.
We dealt with lots of “stuff,” including 2.5 years of recycling, items for Goodwill and things past their usefulness. When going through papers, I noticed an envelope with my name on it. Tim had written and addressed a note of thanks to me over a year ago but had never quite gotten a stamp on it. He hand delivered it and doubled the thanks.
Helping Tim move was arduous even with a borrowed car. Finding parking is a challenge, especially since many areas are reserved for residents and the car we used had NJ plates. With construction blocking access to the main entrance at the new apartment, we used the loading dock and luggage carts to save our backs and move Tim’s things. How different Boston looks from the 24th floor!
I believe helping Tim with the move and spending time interacting with him are preparing me for the change in relationship that marriage brings. I look forward to a Boston wedding and adding another daughter to the family soon.
Recently I made more deposits into my Boston memory bank, spending a long weekend with Tim. You’ll never guess what we did. I was able to express tangible care by helping my son clean, pack and move most of his worldly goods from one apartment to another in preparation for his marriage to Grace.
A friend driving to a conference near Boston had asked if she could deliver anything to Tim. First I thought of stuff to send the 300 miles, and then I thought of sending myself. I am glad I did.
My Jersey country boy has become a mature city man. In two days, my pedometer—and the aching soles of my feet—testified that we took more than 25,000 steps (nearly 8 miles) in a city with hills and a fourth-floor walkup apartment. Tim’s ability to navigate the streets and hard conversations were impressive. He gave me a tour, pointing out places where he had worked, where he had asked Grace to marry him and other special spots. I also heard him deal gracefully with several touchy issues in a way that helped the other person feel understood as well as understand why change was necessary.
We dealt with lots of “stuff,” including 2.5 years of recycling, items for Goodwill and things past their usefulness. When going through papers, I noticed an envelope with my name on it. Tim had written and addressed a note of thanks to me over a year ago but had never quite gotten a stamp on it. He hand delivered it and doubled the thanks.
Helping Tim move was arduous even with a borrowed car. Finding parking is a challenge, especially since many areas are reserved for residents and the car we used had NJ plates. With construction blocking access to the main entrance at the new apartment, we used the loading dock and luggage carts to save our backs and move Tim’s things. How different Boston looks from the 24th floor!
I believe helping Tim with the move and spending time interacting with him are preparing me for the change in relationship that marriage brings. I look forward to a Boston wedding and adding another daughter to the family soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment