Love is sitting in a San Francisco hotel room, eating take-out House Of Nanking, watching the US Open.
Those of you who’ve done the Basic Seminar know your answers to this question. This past weekend I added the afforementioned answer to my list:
My parents were here in San Francisco over Labor Day Weekend. I was honestly a bit perturbed they were here over a 3-day weekend. Lisa, my “Non-Biological Mother” as she likes to be called, has a serious illness that requires a trip from Fresno to UCSF here in the city for a pre-surgery appointment. Lisa’s illness leaves her easily and consistently fatigued.
The first night they were here, I realized the magnitude of Lisa’s situation. I thought, “Great. Once Lisa’s settled, my 78 year-old Dad and I can go smoke a cigar or get some other trouble in the city.”
My Dad said to me, “Nah Robby, I’d rather stay close to Lisa to make sure she’s okay. That’s why we’re here.”
The second day, Lisa asked if I knew good Chinese places for dinner. Without fail, the answer is House of Nanking. I was excited to take them to one of my favorite psuedo-insider spots. But when I got the hotel that evening, Lisa wasn’t feeling up to it.
Once again, I was excited at the prospect of having a boys night with my Dad.
Once again, my Dad said no. “Let’s get take out and come back here to the hotel.”
I was bummed that I couldn’t take them out to this experience. Nanking take-out is just weird. You go there to experience this dive Chinese place with amazing food. Driving over there, my Dad reitterated, “I want to make sure Lisa’s okay. She’s the reason we came up here. Know what I mean?”
That’s when it hit me. That’s when my heart sank in my own selfishness.
My Dad put on a display of selflessness, devotion, loyalty, and love that is, in my book, a core fundamental of being a husband.
Of being a partner.
Of being a man.
Thanks for the check-in, Dad.
What is Love? Love is sitting in a San Francisco hotel room, eating take-out House Of Nanking, watching the US Open.