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![A man and a woman drink rum while gazing at the ocean in Martinique A man and a woman drink rum while gazing at the ocean in Martinique](https://cdn.aarp.net/content/dam/aarpe/en/home/benefits-discounts/members-only-access/info-2022/martinique-mom-son-new-eyes/_jcr_content/root/container_main/container_body_main/container_body1/container_body_cf/container_image/articlecontentfragment/cfimage.coreimg.50.932.jpeg/content/dam/aarp/members-only/member-benefits/2022/03/1140-martinique-promo.jpg)
When do you gently unknot your child from yourself?
Does it happen when he or she moves out, finds a partner, becomes a parent? Or does it happen when you least expect it, in this case on your fourth distillery visit in as many days in the 95-degree July heat of Martinique, where your shirt sticks to you in the Caribbean humidity, the rhum agricole you’re chasing and tasting around this French West Indies island vaporizes fragrantly out of your pores, the roads are twisty and winding, the roundabouts devilish, the GPS hapless, and the rugged jungle so beautiful you care little that you’re not sure where you are?
We — mother and son — emerge from the tangle like Livingstone and Stanley into an emerald valley dotted with crimson buildings, the silvery echo of water tumbling over rocks in the distance. The Rhum J.M distillery is our day’s destination. I park the car and watch my 22-year-old son, Adrian, unfold his man-size frame out of the tiny vehicle and stretch. “There’s the river,” he says, eyeing a glisten not far from the dirt parking lot. “Let’s check it out before we go in.”
I’m craving the air-conditioned promise of the J.M tasting room, but I do what my son tells me — not my normal parenting style — because he’s the mastermind of this trip and it’s his to orchestrate. It’s my job to step back and follow his lead.
A spur-of-the-moment proposal
![Tracey Minkin and her son, Adrian Stone, toast with drinks in a beachfront cafe in Sainte-Anne, Martinique. Tracey Minkin and her son, Adrian Stone, toast with drinks in a beachfront cafe in Sainte-Anne, Martinique.](https://cdn.aarp.net/content/dam/aarpe/en/home/benefits-discounts/members-only-access/info-2022/martinique-mom-son-new-eyes/_jcr_content/root/container_main/container_body_main/container_body1/container_body_cf/body_one_cf_one/par6/body_one_callout_one/cfimage.coreimg.50.932.jpeg/content/dam/aarp/members-only/member-benefits/2022/03/1140-martinique-secondary.jpg)
This all began with an earnest, albeit impulsive, curveball from me. Offered a job as the travel editor of Coastal Living magazine, I’d moved nearly a thousand miles away from my out-of-college kids. As I ascended into a dizzying schedule of destinations, I was traveling more than I ever had — but solo. It had been a disconcerting switch. We had been a traveling family, and after their father and I divorced, I maintained a road-tripping, getaway-dotted rhythm with my son and his older sister. With Adrian, whom I felt deserved a double dose of adventure after he’d been deprived of daily life with his dad, I’d concocted journeys out of my vision of Boy’s Life: an exotic car festival in Florida, fishing the St. Lawrence River, driving the length of California with two of his skateboards in the back seat of a red convertible Mustang. With those quirky journeys quietly grew a companionable new relationship between us that transcended the built-in mother-son bond. While I’d always been happy, I felt, to let Adrian grow up and grow independent of me, I found myself missing one of my favorite travel companions.
On a quiet spring Saturday in my new home, I mulled this a bit over coffee and thought it was time to propose a trip for the two of us. My travel-control instincts kicked in: What would he love? What would tickle his fancy? I began sorting out the things I knew about my child, like going over a résumé — since toddlerhood, his sturdy grace and love of playing any game; from high school, his strong Spanish; from college, his pursuit of physics, architecture and art. What was a Man’s Life adventure for my kid, I wondered?
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