That I have spoken to my eldest son, Paul, in quite some time. It wasn’t for the best of reasons, but I don’t care. He is going through a rough patch, (not of his making) and family is family. I’ve missed him, and I told him as much.
But then I did something even more important; I listened. I let him pour it all out to me, no judgment and only offered advise and my opinion when I was asked for it. He knew that if I thought for an instant that he was in the wrong, I would have landed on him (verbally) with both feet.
That wasn’t the case.
And I’m still here to listen.