We delayed my birthday dinner to a later night, hopeful that we could spend more time together. After hearing our plans, one of our sons showed us in a variety of ways that this was not where he would like to be.
My reaction when he asked how long this was going to take was to more fully define a line between us. I dug a canyon with steep cliffs, hungry mountain lions hidden in caves, and a raging river below with my words, and retreated to my bed, so hurt that I considered canceling the evening.
“Why do you say one thing when you really mean something else?” The Spirit spoke to my mind. “All you need to tell him is that you want to spend some time with him for your birthday.”
My opportunity came during dinner as my son slumped in the seat beside me, refusing to enjoy the meal.
“I said a lot of things, but what I really meant was that I just wanted to be with you for my birthday,” I said quietly, leaving out the reprimand.
We walked through the mall after dinner and stopped at the Lego store. When he saw my delight at the tiny baby Lego figures, he carefully pulled the box from the shelf when I wasn’t looking, scaled the canyon walls to reach me, ignored the mountain lions of bad memories, and bought them for me.
I think the Lego sparkle babies were his way of saying what he had really meant to say, too.