I need an appointment. This will be no ordinary time together; there will be no one else there, no cell phone, no flickering screen and no loud music.
You’re old enough and experienced in presenting yourself; I want an Oprah style interview with the two of us facing each other (without the camera and crew).
Because somehow I’ve lost you.
You, the boy who would sit so close to me that even the dog couldn’t get between us. You, the boy who would lie face-to-face in bed with your thumb in your mouth and your wide eyes gazing into my eyes until your lashes fluttered softly closed and your breath was rhythmic in sleep. You, who would clutch my hand on the way into your classroom; your warm little hand still hesitating to reach for the teacher’s as she received your lunch box. You, the first man who shocked me with a deep voice on the telephone saying, “Grammy?”
What are your days like now? What are you thinking? What drives you?
I understand that time changes things between and grandmother and a grandson. You are smiling and loving to me when we meet. You enjoy your minutes with me in the slices between your other lives. There’s nothing wrong with our relationship for this moment in time. We have a strong bond that can’t be broken.
And for me there is something missing.
I want to know what is sparking your curiosity. I want to know what you are reading. I want to know how you feel about life and the hereafter.
Who are your best friends? Why? Who do you love? Does he or she love you back?
Why do you work out? Is it to soothe your frustration or to increase your strength? And if so, for what? For your health? For yearned-for success in a sport? For an attractive body?
Grant me this hearing, dearest young man. After that I will go home sated. And for a time I will be content with strong but fleeting hugs. I’ll go home and be happy with intermittent text messages and an occasional dinner with you and your family.
Until the next time…