A little frustration set in today. Not with me but with my mother. My brother and I were trying to get her medications lined out for the week in her pill containers. She, of course, wanted to be in control.
My siblings and I have been rotating taking care of her. It is currently my younger brother, John’s, week. We were on the phone trying to figure out things that would be much easier to handle if we were together, in person, handling these things.
But, now, during this season in our life, we are buckling down and doing what we need to do, what we have to do, how we can. My mother on the other hand insists that she can handle it all and does not need our help.
She has always been one of the most independent people I know. She has never wanted anyone to do anything for her. It’s a fine art giving up control of the things you once did so easily and it’s also a fine art of taking over the things someone once took for granted.
As I decorated a set of bookshelves tonight over my desk, I positioned each book, decorative piece, and candlestick perfectly..or perfectly in my perspective. I’ll know if anyone has moved them or disturbed them. I get that from my mother. She loves to decorate and when she feels good (like me) there is a place for everything and everything has it’s place. A control thing.
But in the end, do the bookshelves even matter? Do the pill containers even matter? No. What matters is that we have someone there to help us. What matters is that we are not alone. Don’t wait until the end to give control up to God; to get your priorities straight. It’s a fine art. But it’s easier than you think.