Not A Visit

My son dropped by the other night on his way to an appointment. Bear in mind we live 300 miles from him and his appointment was 850 miles from here. The west; it's so damn big.

He had an appointment to get a specialized cab installed on his fancy red truck. He lives in Denver and this custom installer was in L.A. So he had to drive there. 

He stayed with us one night, then drove on to stay at his brother's in California, get the truck gussied up, and then return for the long drive back to Colorado. 

One of my enduring fantasies is that our three adult children live where we do and stop by frequently. Not to visit, but for everyday things -- to pick something up, to stay for an impromptu dinner, to drop something off, to have us babysit, to show us a new purchase. Just ordinary life events of no consequence, but a chance for us to be involved in their lives.

But one lives north of L.A, one in Denver and one in the Boston area, hundreds and even thousands of miles from us. We are blessed to have frequent enough calls and we do get to visit them, and my granddaughter is on facetime with me each week. But our in-person interactions are carefully planned visits that involve travel, suitcases, multiple night stays and a coordinated chunk of everyone's schedule.

So it was a nice surprise when my son came for one night on his way elsewhere. He came in late, stayed overnight, had to do a conference call for work in the morning and then left. He'll be back again briefly overnight next week on his return trip, with his new truck enhancement to show us.

This is my fantasy come true: brief stop-bys with errands and ordinary things to do. Not a "visit".