understand.”
Cameron and the other two boys line up in front of the television set. They counted off, “One. Two. One, two, three, four.”
They only got about eight counts into the dance when somebody messed up. Don’t know which one it was, but they had to start over. Twice.
Finally, Cameron gave up. “Never mind, Mama B. We’ll go outside and work on it some more.”
Tickled me, but I didn’t laugh none ‘cause they was serious about this thing. “Good idea. Y’all go on outside, I’ll make you some snacks for after you finish. I can hardly wait to see the performance Friday night.”
They traipsed out there and practiced the moves. Rosetta’s grandsons almost got into a fight, but Cameron intervened. Little peacemaker, that boy was. Make any father or grandfather proud.
I fished my cell phone from my purse and sent Son another text.
Your grandson performing at church Friday night.
Few minutes later, he returned.
Sorry. Can’t make it. Plans already.
Plans, my foot. I could see I was going to have to practice the Rule of One on Son. Something I hadn’t done with him since Nikki was born.
Me and Libby come up with the Rule of One. It’s when you got grown kids and they don’t want to listen to you and you already know a face-to-face meetin’ won’t really get you nowhere ‘cause somebody always got to have the last word.
Instead of a conversation, write a letter and tell ‘em one time and one time only about what’s on your heart. Give them advice. In love. Let ‘em know this the only time you gon’ bring it up, ‘less they want to talk about it (that’s the “One” part).
When Jesus talked to folks, He didn’t sit there arguing. He might say “Do you want to be healed?” or “I am the Son of God” and that was it. They either believed or they didn’t. Ain’t got time to sit up trying to talk people to death. Talk don’t help some people.
Other thing about the rule is: you can’t do it often. Some kids, never. Some kids two or three times in a lifetime. Only when you see they gettin’ ready to do something you believe they gon’ regret for a long, long time.
Last time I did the Rule of One with Son was when told me he was leavin’ his family for Nikki’s momma. Said he was bored with Wanda. Dianne made him feel “alive” again. Now, I couldn’t figure out how he was feelin’ dead already at the ripe old age of twenty-four. I did know what he was feelin’, and it certainly wasn’t dead.
Son got a good heart. Since him and Wanda got back together, he been doin’ good with his family and his church. But, in the natural, he always been the kind who love to tell other people what they doin’ wrong, yet don’t like nobody to point out his faults. Can’t stand to be wrong. We couldn’t hardly play Monopoly with him ‘cause he nearly fall out when he land on “Go to Jail!”
Anyhow, he still my son. I still had a right and a obligation to speak the truth into his life. Just had to figure out what words to say.
And I knew I wasn’t the One with all the answers.
Chapter 21
I finished making the grilled sandwiches for Cameron and his summer buddies. Called them in to eat, then sent the other two home. I was planning on taking my shower first, but by the smell of him, I let him go ahead.
When Nikki come in, I called it a night. Left her to tend to her son while I tended to mine.
I met Jesus in the rocking chair. Pulled out my Bible and read first Corinthians chapter thirteen again. Reminded me of who I am in Christ before I wrote the Rule of One letter to Son. Not rude, not self-seeking, not proud, slow to anger.
Took me nearly an hour to write the letter. This was the one shot I had to let Son know exactly how I felt with no tit-for-tat. I wrote it on stationery Libby got me, with flowers and everything on it. Anything to help Son know how much I loved him, how much God loved him. Told him not to carry ‘round the guilt of what
Cameron and the other two boys line up in front of the television set. They counted off, “One. Two. One, two, three, four.”
They only got about eight counts into the dance when somebody messed up. Don’t know which one it was, but they had to start over. Twice.
Finally, Cameron gave up. “Never mind, Mama B. We’ll go outside and work on it some more.”
Tickled me, but I didn’t laugh none ‘cause they was serious about this thing. “Good idea. Y’all go on outside, I’ll make you some snacks for after you finish. I can hardly wait to see the performance Friday night.”
They traipsed out there and practiced the moves. Rosetta’s grandsons almost got into a fight, but Cameron intervened. Little peacemaker, that boy was. Make any father or grandfather proud.
I fished my cell phone from my purse and sent Son another text.
Your grandson performing at church Friday night.
Few minutes later, he returned.
Sorry. Can’t make it. Plans already.
Plans, my foot. I could see I was going to have to practice the Rule of One on Son. Something I hadn’t done with him since Nikki was born.
Me and Libby come up with the Rule of One. It’s when you got grown kids and they don’t want to listen to you and you already know a face-to-face meetin’ won’t really get you nowhere ‘cause somebody always got to have the last word.
Instead of a conversation, write a letter and tell ‘em one time and one time only about what’s on your heart. Give them advice. In love. Let ‘em know this the only time you gon’ bring it up, ‘less they want to talk about it (that’s the “One” part).
When Jesus talked to folks, He didn’t sit there arguing. He might say “Do you want to be healed?” or “I am the Son of God” and that was it. They either believed or they didn’t. Ain’t got time to sit up trying to talk people to death. Talk don’t help some people.
Other thing about the rule is: you can’t do it often. Some kids, never. Some kids two or three times in a lifetime. Only when you see they gettin’ ready to do something you believe they gon’ regret for a long, long time.
Last time I did the Rule of One with Son was when told me he was leavin’ his family for Nikki’s momma. Said he was bored with Wanda. Dianne made him feel “alive” again. Now, I couldn’t figure out how he was feelin’ dead already at the ripe old age of twenty-four. I did know what he was feelin’, and it certainly wasn’t dead.
Son got a good heart. Since him and Wanda got back together, he been doin’ good with his family and his church. But, in the natural, he always been the kind who love to tell other people what they doin’ wrong, yet don’t like nobody to point out his faults. Can’t stand to be wrong. We couldn’t hardly play Monopoly with him ‘cause he nearly fall out when he land on “Go to Jail!”
Anyhow, he still my son. I still had a right and a obligation to speak the truth into his life. Just had to figure out what words to say.
And I knew I wasn’t the One with all the answers.
Chapter 21
I finished making the grilled sandwiches for Cameron and his summer buddies. Called them in to eat, then sent the other two home. I was planning on taking my shower first, but by the smell of him, I let him go ahead.
When Nikki come in, I called it a night. Left her to tend to her son while I tended to mine.
I met Jesus in the rocking chair. Pulled out my Bible and read first Corinthians chapter thirteen again. Reminded me of who I am in Christ before I wrote the Rule of One letter to Son. Not rude, not self-seeking, not proud, slow to anger.
Took me nearly an hour to write the letter. This was the one shot I had to let Son know exactly how I felt with no tit-for-tat. I wrote it on stationery Libby got me, with flowers and everything on it. Anything to help Son know how much I loved him, how much God loved him. Told him not to carry ‘round the guilt of what
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