I was filling out an updated volunteer form for the best therapeutic horseback riding center in the country, Agape Therapeutic Riding Resources in Cicero. (I’m not kidding, folks, they are in the top 10 in the U.S., and they’re moving to Noblesville soon!)
Agape asked for not one, but two emergency contacts. Naturally, I put my husband John’s information on the form first. But then I paused about who to put for my second contact. The next closest relative distance-wise was … my son Jonathon.
I freaked out over this. For years, I would write down my husband and then my brother, who used to live in Noblesville before moving to Florida a couple of years ago. Of course, when I was younger, I always put in my mom’s information.
But Jonathon moved back to Noblesville in December and is living just 10 minutes from us in a rental house with two of his friends. He’s 22 and going to graduate from IUPUI in just three weeks. He’s now a young man who has been going to college and working for the past four years. Jonathon owns a car and helps takes care of a house, pays bills, and does all that responsible adult stuff.
If I were walking alongside a horse one evening and, say, tripped, fell, and broke my arm (knocking loudly on wood right now) and John was an hour away in a sales appointment, Agape would call Jonathon. That thought made my little empty nester brain feel strange.
For over 22 years, John and I have been the ones taking care of Jonathon and his younger brother Jacob. WE’RE supposed to be the emergency contact folks, not the other way around. Well, until now.
I know in the broken arm scenario that Jonathon wouldn’t hesitate to come up to Cicero and drive me to Riverview Health. He would do a great job of taking care of me, and so would Jacob if I had to put down a third emergency contact, if he weren’t at Ball State. I’d get teased about it later, but my husband John would do the same thing.
You just feel like you’ve entered another dimension when you realize that your kids CAN take care of you if need be. Intellectually, I knew this day was coming … emotionally, not so much.
After my little freak out moment, I realized that I felt proud. My sons have good heads on their shoulders, are kicking butt and taking names in college, and are kind human beings. Isn’t that what every mom and dad hope for? The boys would happily help their parents in the broken arm or other scenario.
So, I finally smiled and typed in Jonathon’s name and contact information. In case of emergency, Agape, please give him a call. He’ll take good care of his mama, and only tease her a little bit about the accident a few days later.