The soccer pitch, bright and not exactly natural green, was close enough to almost reach out and touch it. The November sunlight gleamed, illuminating the sweat dripping off the players. In the first quarter, Manchester United headed in a goal, and the visiting side cheered. The thrill of sitting field-side at a Premier League match was a dream come true for my soccer-obsessed son. The best part is that I heard all about it from the comfort of home.
“Mom! I can’t believe it. Our seats were so awesome!” my son said, his 13-year-old puberty-cracking voice rising unexpectedly into a fever pitch. “We saw Manchester United score right in front of us!” Selfies from inside Tottenham Stadium shared the glee of my husband and son’s trip to London. I reveled in their joy, sympathetically joining in, even as I embraced the quiet solitude of a week home — alone.
Even though I am the travel writer in our family, I had never been more excited about a trip that I wasn’t going on.
I encouraged this one-on-one trip
As part of our son’s Bar Mitzvah celebration, my husband took him to England. The dad-son-only trip focused on the things they love: soccer, pub food, and more soccer. Not only did I cheer for their adventures, but I also encouraged them, leaning on the knowledge that there are many positive cognitive and emotional benefits for kids when parents spend one-on-one time with their children.
They spent about six months dreaming of this trip to England. My husband’s father is from Manchester, making London an obvious choice for a short soccer-based getaway. Increasingly popular, sports holidays are taking root internationally, and soccer (sorry, football) is the primary driver of sports-based holidays to England.
I enjoyed some alone time
The serene quiet of our home was a welcome relief from the constant busyness of family life. I slept starfish-style, spread across our entire bed. Our house was tidy, the surfaces that I had cleaned days before stayed clear. I joked about eating cereal for dinner every night, delighting in not needing to cook for anyone but myself.
My phone pinged several times a day with the latest updates on the father-son adventures, and I was happy to learn what they were up to.
Full English breakfasts started their days while I was happily tucked in bed, the eight-hour time difference stretching our ability to speak in real time. The texts and photos arrived in torrents when I turned on my phone each morning. While I drank my coffee, I lingered over shots of my guys posing in front of all the London landmarks. I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and my son and husband were too, albeit on the other side of the pond.
All three of us were all smiles about the trip
I often say that my favorite emotion is sympathetic joy — it’s the feeling of happiness for someone else’s happiness. There is a purity to sympathetic joy; to delight in other people’s well-being feels like a boundless gift and the antidote to jealousy and envy. Being a mom has deepened my capacity to regard my son’s (and my husband’s) good fortune as my own.
Throughout their time in London, I was just so happy that my son and husband were on an adventure together, happy that they got to do all the things they love, and so very happy not to be dragged all over London looking for vintage soccer jerseys.
They returned home with a suitcase full of soccer-filled, vibrant memories of the matches they saw, the memorable meals, and multiple gifts for me. But the best gift from their trip was knowing that sometimes staying home can offer something that traveling together can’t: the opportunity to feel the joy that experience brings to others.
Perhaps this is the true essence of motherhood, embracing pride and good wishes for our kids as they go forth to explore the world. Sometimes with us, and sometimes without.
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