I was recently talking with a middle-aged co-worker who has an only child at home. It’s pretty impressive how close she is with her 17-year old son. She should be very proud of their relationship, based on what she has told me about it. A teenage boy who talks to his mom about girl troubles? Unprecedented. But one thing she said flat out amazed me.
She and her husband never drive or fly anywhere together.
She was telling me about a recent trip the couple took to Vegas and she said they each boarded their separate flights at the airport.
“Wait, what? Why did you take separate flights?” I asked.
“We never travel together. Even if the two of us go out to dinner in town, we drive separately.”
“WHY?” I asked, completely confused.
She explained. Her son is an only child. All of his grandparents are gone. Her siblings are estranged. If something were to happen to either of his parents, he would be “an orphan” as she put it.
It made me think of my own son. Happily we’ve got great family members who love and care for Riley like we do, but as Derek and I have said before, he’s the only one. Right now, anyway.
I am definitely not the most optimistic person in the world. Sometimes I let tragic, nasty thoughts enter my mind. But I would never even think to go so far as to travel separately from my husband. I don’t want to live my life always expecting the worst. Sometimes I think it’s ok to assume the best.