My Son Called

My son and I had not spoken in six years. A falling out over something that felt enormous at the time and smaller every year since. I had tried twice to reach out and been rebuffed. Last Thanksgiving I decided to try one more time — I wrote a letter, the kind you write not expecting a response, just to say what needed saying. I mailed it on a Wednesday. On Friday my phone rang. He had written me a letter the same day I wrote mine. His letter arrived the day after he called. We spent Christmas together for the first time in six years. I do not believe the timing was coincidence.