A road trip with my son

Last week, my son Mio and I went on a long drive away from Sydney for some father-son bonding. It was a trip we thought of taking almost on a whim. I suggested the idea to him and I knew he would like it. I let him choose the destination. He chose Tamworth, a five-hour drive from our home in the west of Sydney. It is the country music capital of Australia.

I did not particularly care where we were going. I just wanted to be with my son whom I had not seen for about seven months. I wanted to get out of the house setting we were all so familiar with and in a situation where I could get to know him more than I think I already do.

We planned to do the trip after my wife Lydia had left for the Philippines. We wanted to do something without a mom around. It was to be an all-male expedition into a new place.  Almost six years since he had moved to Sydney, Mio had never gone farther than 200 kilometers out of the city. Tamworth was past 400 kilometers. That was far enough, and more than adventurous for the two of us.

We hopped onto the car at 9:30 a.m. and began the long drive. Mio drove; I held the map and navigated.

Some fathers and sons may find the idea of a long drive like this rather peculiar — uncomfortable, even. I know parents who like to be around their children, enjoying their company, but have a problem with one-on-one situations with them. They like the family noise and loud laughter but they would have a hard time dealing with some of the intimacy that conversations in a long drive can coax out of people.

Mio brought his music, and I brought my iPod. One of the best things about my kids and me is that we enjoy and share a lot of artists and their music. They like the sounds of my generation — artists such as Stevie Wonder, Billy Joel, the Beatles, Sergio Mendes, Basia and Michael Jackson. I also like many of the artists they like and so there is no problem in that area.

There were stretches of road that ran more than 100 kilometers with no turns. By the second hour, I set aside the map, lowered the volume of the music and started to talk. We talked about a lot of things. We talked about his part-time job on weekends, which he enjoys, and his mental, emotional and psychological state at the moment. This was important for me to know because, as a parent, I often worry that living alone in our house in Glenwood may be making him depressed or feeling neglected. He assured me that he was fine and that he has learned to accept — even appreciate and enjoy — being alone. No, he did not doubt that we cared for him, even if we are overseas quite often.

The drive to Tamworth is beautiful and scenic through fields of green and gold, with horses, cattle and sheep grazing in an idyllic splendorous setting. Even the road kill we occasionally encountered were quite interesting. There were ferrets, foxes, squirrels, raccoons, birds and kangaroos.

We chose to drive out of Sydney in the morning to make it to Tamworth early afternoon and still be able to see something. When we got there, we took a few photos of each other at some of the landmarks before looking for lodging in the Central Business District. It did not us take long after we visited a few inns that we decided we wanted more comfort than what these backpacker rooms could offer. Many of them had quarters without a private toilet or shower. The corridors were dark. The heating was centralized. And Mio found the old-fashioned Otis elevators that had those metal accordion doors “too creepy.” We left the CBD and ended up staying at Motel Grande, which was more expensive, but it came with everything we wanted.

The idea of looking for lodging when we got to the destination would surely not have flown if we had planned the trip with Lydia. She would have wanted everything decided, paid for and in place, even before we left home. The beauty of this trip was that it had minimum planning, and it had that reckless spontaneity that boys are often more capable of than girls.

Mothers, as nurturers, tend to want things secure and safe over anything else. As boys, we were good as long as we had a decent running car and money for meals.

When we got to our room, we both took a nap before heading for dinner. Meals were in a big club that housed restaurants and a casino. Over dinner, we talked about what he wanted to do in life. I asked him to imagine in detail what he really wanted to be in 10 years. I wanted to find out his passion.

As expected, I saw a young man torn between the idea of a career that paid good money, and some other job that would get him so excited he could be happy doing it for a long time, but it may or may not pay much.

I told him that this was the same feeling I had when I was young. I worried that some of my classmates already had steady jobs while I was, in my own self-assessment, hardly amounting to anything that spelled success or something I could be proud of. I knew he felt reassured, somewhat, by my statement. It must have been a burden off his shoulders to know that many people, including his own dad, had gone through the same doubts and worries at his age.

As we talked, I sensed that we were seeing each other through more human eyes, somehow transcending the limitations of a father-son relationship. I saw a decent young man who was finding himself slowly but surely. I was happy that I am not the kind of father who would insist that his son be this or that, with a career that I chose for him. I saw Mio as someone independent from me, unfolding and coming into his own. I told him I just want him to be happy and, whatever he needs, I will support him.

Well, not really, but almost.

He has lately been looking to buy a motorcycle but Lydia and I have expressed our strong disapproval. Despite our objections, we know that he is old enough to make his own decisions, but it does not stop us from making known our fears and giving him caveats about possible accidents.

The next day, we went for more sightseeing and for the last attraction, we ended up in a motorcycle museum, one of the places Tamworth is famous for. Mio conversed enthusiastically with the curator, talking shop about Ducatis, Kawasakis, Harleys, etc. He was in motorcycle heaven.

I know my children to a great degree but there are many things that I observed Mio has become, especially in the past few years. He is intelligent but not bookish. He is not in his best element inside a classroom. He is not comfortable behind a desk. Lately, it is clear he enjoys learning about the processes and logic behind machines, technologies and systems. Furthermore, he is a good friend, quite polite and gentlemanly, charming with the girls and with a high EQ to match.

It is one of the rewards of parenthood to behold how our children turn out as adults who mirror many of the things we taught them. But it is with great awe and wonder that we see them come into their own as independent, self-made men and women. 

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