In December my son and his girlfriend came from Sweden to visit and I got to see my four grown boys together and watch them talk to each other and their friends. Got to watch them tell stories and laugh together. 

Everything I did with them was fun  — even watching “Deadliest Catch” which is a show about “the deadliest job on earth: crab fishing off the Alaskan coast on the icy Bering Sea”.

It is in its 20th season. Remarkable. 

I have only seen the episodes my sons have shown me and only know about it because they tell me about it. I don’t want to watch Deadliest Catch, but I am somehow delighted, filled with joy even, that this show exists for my boys to enjoy watching together. 

I find myself interested in — made happy by — anything they are interested in and made happy by. The games they play, books they read, their hobbies, their friendships, every new thing they learn. And especially anything they enjoy together. It surprises me, this joy. 

I got the email from my director at The Moth inviting me to tell a story at their MainStage show in Alaska while watching Deadliest Catch with my sons. The crew on the show had just pulled in a huge haul of king crab and I yelled “I’m going to Alaska!” 

Which was confusing for a minute until I explained. 

My boys stopped the show and they cheered me and asked all the questions and said how great my story at the last show had been and what they liked best in the story and in the audience’s reactions. They talked about telling their friends and coworkers about the show and what stories they hoped I’d tell. 

I got to listen to them talk to each other — about me and what I do. I felt this strange delight, this strange grateful joy that I have stories to tell and stages to tell them on – so that my boys can enjoy them — so that I can feel them enjoy them together.