My mom used
to close her eyes and whisper to herself, “choose your battles, Lynette.” This was typically in reference to something
my sister, Bailee, wanted to wear. Bailee
had an… eclectic… fashion sense and liked making serious statements with her clothes. One time my mom came home from work to find
Bailee dancing on the front porch in a ruffled bikini and yellow rubber rain
boots. Bailee also went through a phase
where she literally refused to wear anything that wasn’t yellow. Mom didn’t choose that battle. She let Bailee wear yellow every single day
for two years.
“Choose
your battles…” when we wanted to “help” with a school project that was way over
our heads. “Choose your battles…” when
someone would cause a scene in the grocery store because they were told, “no”
after asking for junk food. “Choose your
battles…” when we wanted to watch cartoons in the living room instead of a
grown up channel (even though we had our own television).
There were
a few battles mom did choose though… no light up shoes, no shoes that Velcro and
don’t tie, must wear matching outfits for Easter and Christmas, must have
coordinating- homemade- Halloween costumes, no using the words “hate,” or “shut
up” under any circumstance, and absolutely do not use God’s name in vain. But one of the most constant battles she
fought was clothing and other paraphernalia with cartoon characters on it.
I
specifically remember having a drawer of “play clothes” that I could wear when
I wanted to finger paint, or dig for worms in the back yard. That entire drawer was made up of t shirts
(mostly gifts from people unaware of my mother’s dislike) donning familiar
faces from Rugrats, The Wild Thornberrys, and countless Disney movies. Naturally, I looked for reasons to sport the
clothes in that drawer every chance I got.
What kid doesn’t love a good tacky cartoon shirt!? I had my favorite t shirts and cheap pajama
sets that were only allowed on what I considered special occasions, but my all-time
favorite cartoon piece was not an article of clothing, it was a plate.
We had a
set of plastic plates, bowls, and cups, each featuring different Disney
characters. We also had a set of dishes
that were an exact plastic replica of my mom’s expensive nautical china- so
cute, right? But given the choice, we
always wanted those hideous, worn, over used, Disney plates. My personal preference? Pocahontas.
Pocahontas
wasn’t my favorite Disney princess by any means (Cinderella all the way), but
the Pocahontas plate was the prettiest.
The plate featured Pocahontas looking off into the distance (probably
gazing at a cool tree or something), with bright turquoise, pink and yellow leaves
entangled in her perfectly wind-blown hair.
She looked brave, and strong.
My mom and
Pocahontas have something in common.
One of the
recurring conflicts Pocahontas faces is choosing the smooth, easier path
(making a few personal sacrifices along the way), or taking the road less
traveled (likely resulting in consequences or challenges). Grandmother Willow insists, "listen to your heart," which is usually screaming, “don’t do that easy thing, do the other harder thing because it’s probably better anyway!” Thanks, Grandmother Willow, but that’s inconvenient.
Recently,
my mom found herself sitting at a fork in the river asking, “should I take the smoothest
course?” Her
boat was pulling her towards the still, calm waters, but ultimately she paddled
towards the rocks and rapids ahead.
Mom chose a
great battle: her parents are moving in with her.
My
grandparent’s health is declining. My
grandpa suffers from dementia, he forgets more every day, and he’s just weeks
away from having his second knee replacement.
My grandma hasn’t been the same since her heart attack and stroke five
years ago- her balance is all kinds of crazy, and she has very little use of
her left arm/hand. They’ve reached a
point where they can no longer take care of each other, and it’s heartbreaking.
It was just
over a year ago that Mammy and Papaw made the decision to down-size from their
split level home that sat on a double lot with an in-ground pool and big,
beautiful back yard to a small, charming condo.
The last 14 months were spent redecorating their cute new space and
trying to get Papaw acclimated to his new, unfamiliar home.
Also just
over a year ago, my mom got remarried (to Rob- a rock star of a man, I might
add), moved from London to Canal Winchester and has spent the last year putting
her personal touches on their home and learning to navigate a new city.
Now it’s
time to leave behind all things familiar and settle in to a whole new “normal.”
A beautiful
house in Grove City will be home to my grandparents, parents, sister and step
brother (when they’re not away at college), my step sister (when she’s not away
in Cambodia on missions trips), and Layla- the cat.
Growing up,
my mom was a constant demonstration of selflessness. She gave us the last bite, the bigger piece
of cake, the better seat at the movie theater.
She took off work to make it to everything we did, she loved hosting all
of our friends for school dances, she got up extra early to draw spirited
doodles on our lunch bags for game days.
But in the last couple of years, I’ve seen her soften, relax, and handle
her stress with care. She’s enjoying
her time away from school, sports, and theater committees. She gets to enjoy my step dad’s company and
she doesn’t have to take care of people.
But she’s
chosen this new battle- and she’s going to be great.
Easy would
have been finding an assisted living facility.
Easy would have been hiring someone to come to the condo once a
day. Easy would have been letting them
try to live on their own for a bit longer.
Mom and Rob’s hearts are too big, so God’s called them to share their grace
with two people who couldn’t deserve it more.
By the
second week of September, everyone will be settled in Grove City- embracing
sacrifice, establishing a new meaning of “home,” and wrapping each other in
love.
Now we pray
for each other. We pray for softer
hearts and open minds, patience and understanding, and for peace and harmony. Because we’re about to find out just what’s
around the river bend.
