On This Side of the Pond

A while ago, my son, along with his wife and three children, made the trek across the Pond to visit us on our home turf. This was a welcome change, but it required some forethought, as our flat is way too small to billet seven people. Therefore, we rented a holiday home on the coast.

And now a word about the accommodation: lovely.

More words would include: It was a large house, located on the south coast. It had four bedrooms, three bathrooms, two living rooms (each with a telly—but we never went into them and never turned them on), and a dine-in kitchen with a huge table (which was where we spent the bulk of our time).

The property had all the amenities we could ask for (except for pot holders; there wasn’t a pot holder to be found, so we bought some and left them there). It was very convenient to the sea, where the G-kids braved the frigid waters of the Channel and spent a good deal of time, and it also had an expansive yard, with a large patio area, outdoor furniture, two barbecues, and a trampoline, where the G-kids spent the rest of their time.

We did all the usual things you do when a relative comes to visit you in England, namely take them to London, travel to Portsmouth, and show them a Roman ruin that is 1,900 years older than their country.

What was most gratifying, however, was the time we were able to spend together.

When we visit the US, there are still jobs and school and extracurricular activities, making time with my son limited. Here, they were on holiday, and we—of course—are retired, so we could spend 24/7 together. (I admit the thought of this caused a bit of concern in the run-up to the holiday, but the week went by without a hint of tension.)

We got up and ate breakfast together, did activities all day together, had dinner together, and sat around the kitchen table or out by the barbecue in the evenings, just drinking and talking, together. And it warmed my heart to hear my son use phrases on his children that I used on him when he was their age, such as chivvying them along with, “Half the day’s gone already!” It also made me smile to hear my son—when discussing the affairs of the world—say (without a hint of irony): “These kids today…”

In closing, It needs to be pointed out (because I still find this amazing) that my son was (unbeknown to himself) ahead of his time. He travels a lot for work, and he always travels with carry-on only. He never checks a bag. And he expected his family do the same. I was sceptical, but he and his family arrived with nothing but carry-on cases and, as a result, they missed the huge snafu surrounding airport luggage that was going on at that time. So, well done. Perhaps we all need to start thinking like that.