In Praise of Pleasant Surprises

Knowing that one of my sons was coming to visit was not a surprise. He had let me know some six weeks ago. When I realized that his visit was Mother’s Day weekend — that was a surprise. Even better — my 26-year-old had timed his trip to spend more than a day and a half, which in turn meant we could enjoy more of a catch-up, just hang out, and maybe, just maybe… have an adventure.

Who doesn’t adore an adventure? Especially with someone you love?

Since my elder son lives halfway across the country, his visits are rare, making them all the more special. So the extra time was much appreciated, as we chatted, ate out, and then embarked on a spontaneous road trip on a spectacular spring day.

Being an urban creature at heart, heading to “the country” isn’t something I tend to do unless in good company. On the other hand, my son’s good graces (and adventurous spirit) made the option of driving into the unknown (with no plan, and in no time, no cell service) an unanticipated treat. Even more so — lunch, sitting outside in the sunshine, and stopping anywhere I wished to peruse small stands with their stores of jellies and apple butter and baked goods, browsing the stalls in antique and vintage shops, a stop to ooh and aah over quilts, and the most appreciative gawking as we wound our way through a national park, stopping periodically to gaze into the Shenandoah Valley from an elevation of 3,000+ feet.

The view was breathtaking — and all the more enjoyable to be sharing the experience with my firstborn.

As I have been dealing with seriously restrictive “limb issues” in the past 18 months — both of my shoulders, both of my arms, and my lower back (which affects my legs) — I count my blessings that my brain and fingers still work sufficiently to enable me to work at my laptop. However, it isn’t without a certain cost, comfort-wise. And, given the oddities of our healthcare system (significantly limited physical therapy sessions by calendar year, whether you’re better or not), my “little” writer-editor world has been very constricted indeed. Frankly, physical discomfort for the past few months (especially) is the reason that I have saved my writing and editing for clients, and neglected posting here. (I am only recently back in physical therapy, which I hope will help me get around better and broaden my universe a tad once again.)

What is the relevance of that mention?

It is primarily to point out that getting out is a challenge, and consequently an extraordinary treat. Getting out with one or both of my sons, especially so.

The frosting on the cake over the past several days: My firstborn cooked for the remainder of the weekend. (Both my kids are excellent cooks. But man, our fare was Julia Child-worthy in the butter department!)

Once my younger son joined us on Saturday, he helped with some tasks I haven’t been able to manage, including moving some boxes of old (unnecessary) paperwork, then rummaging and sorting and shredding as we laughed together when we ran across old photographs and visited during that process. So this past weekend, for me, was very much a pleasant surprise engaged in activities that are, to so many, utterly routine — family, an outing, a shared meal.

 

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