Maybe, momma was right. I’m a shade over fifty and I can see some things. Not about the rotating variety of beef in a can dinners growing up – shout out to spaghetti, corned beef sloppy Joe and spaghetti nights. I’d be closer to 6 ft and the 90’s Knicks better off if I’d met a vegetable sometime before adulthood.

She was right about leaving. Leaving us alone for Saturday nights or most of Sunday or on a random Thursday so she could see friends and see herself.

My mom was a single working mom. She raised two boys holding down a full-time with two and sometimes three side jobs. If she wasn’t working, she was out visiting friends.  We spent a lot of time on our own, but I didn’t even notice then. I had five stacked TV channels to choose from. I could go from meeting the Mummy with Abott and Costello, to San Te meeting the chi of Chief Abott in The 36^th Chamber of Shaolin all from the comfort a genuine pleather beanbag.     

These days getting up from a beanbag is a twelve-step process. I have a family of my own, blessed with a wife and three daughters aged 12 to 15. I have tried to do some things differently. The kids get vegetables with every meal. Shout out to roasted broccoli. We have some form of family sit down weekly. I listen to their stories. I know where they are.  

I know where they are thanks to technology, and because my side job is running a not- for- profit bus company. We have routes to dance classes, competitions, birthday parties, get- togethers, and all manner of boba-tea runs. If they aren’t at a scheduled activity, they are home – and not outside exploring on a huffy bike for hours unattended like I was.

 Which means I am usually home too. We make home fun. But the other spaces my mom had between work and home are much rarer. My mom had her Saturday tennis dates, the Sunday movie meetups, going over to so and so’s for the afternoon just cause. My get togethers with friends are more manufactured, planned far in advance and requiring several rounds of changes. Dropping by someone’s place? Just because? Inconceivable!  

My mother made active choices to be connected, often with her people. Where I and other GenX parents have overcorrected to use much of our time to invest in parenting. My mom was a parent. She didn’t do parenting.

She also had a luxury which was cheaply and wildly available. She moved through loose time. Her work ended when it ended. Nothing to check if it came up after hours. Our school day ended with the last bell. No emails and forms to keep up with. The news was in the morning paper or at 11P. Everything in between was hers at her pace.

She made it work to see a friendly face. She also had an assist from loose time.  The seconds were plump, the minutes juicy, the hours meaty.    

My time is compressed time. Tight time. Mornings are an F1 pit crew sprint. Work days are a marathon into the night. The time in between, diced into swipes and likes. I am always aware of what time it is. I didn’t know how rich I was buried in that pleather beanbag.

Making new choices to prioritize people instead of the parenting thing isn’t as easy as I thought. The times aren’t changing, time is tight and rare.

I do get to see friends, and we are able to hang with family. My moments are of a different quality though from what my mom made. She didn’t have to use each hang for a catch up. She was already caught up. She entered her meetups already at cruising altitude. She could glide into an atmosphere of easy laughter at anything and everything.   

Loose time and easy laughter. I know the destination, just don’t have a map to get there. I know it will never be like the 80s. I had canned corned beef hash then; I can get corned beef chilaquiles at the bar around the corner now. In the spirit of my mom, I am making choices for people over parenting.

My high school class had a meetup on a Friday night recently. It conflicted with my daughter’s winter dance concert. There was also a show on Saturday, and I could have just gone then. but I knew she wanted me to be at that first performance, so I went.. After the show though, instead of taking the fam out to eat – I made sure they were good getting home – and headed out the meetup.

Thankfully they ran over and there were still about twenty folks there when I arrived. Two are retired. Everyone is working through aging parents and aching backs. There was some talk about the kids, but mostly to laugh at them.  The night was loose and easy. We are going to make it a regular thing now.

I don’t want to trade my minivan in for a DeLorean and go back. I can’t make email go away today.  Together, with the right crew, we just might be able to make something new. Thanks momma, for the inspiration.