Our adopted eight-year-old granddaughter goes through phases of intense clinginess to her mom and often chooses to stay with her 24/7 rather than visit us. The more she isolates with her mom, the more she isolates with her mom. When she has to come over while her mom works, she has a great time.
Recently, an overnight visit unexpectedly turned into a three night stay for logistical reasons, since we now live over an hour from her. She had a big meltdown and was torn about wanting to stay with us but missing her
mom.
I offered to take her home as soon as we realized the conflict, but she would have missed out on all that we had planned. We encouraged her to consider that her mom and life at home would be waiting for her. Not much would happen in the extra two days at home, but if she stayed with us, she would get her favorite dinner as planned. She would
get to go swimming the next day, and much more.
We finally asked her if she wanted a choice and she said she wasn’t sure, which was telling. We removed the choice, knowing she would find the courage to stay and make
fun memories with us. That she would have the courage to LIVE and she did.
We had a grand time! She and I made eight jars of blackberry jam and picked more blackberries to make a cobbler to go with our yummy brisket dinner. We went swimming at a famous creek nearby, at Loretta Lynn’s ranch. We kept saying, Wow, imagine if you had missed THIS,
and she agreed it was the right choice to stay.
We even had a plumbing leak under the kitchen sink and she was the one who spotted it. She immediately realized that was another gift of her staying, so she
could be our hero. Yes!
Fast forward to needing to take my own advice.
I had committed to go to a bridal shower in Indiana, a 5.5 hour drive not counting stops. I would need to spend money on a hotel and
food, and plan a Breakfast at Tiffany’s themed outfit.
For weeks, I struggled to book a hotel and imagine myself really going. I was sure I’d be glad that I went, and yet, I wanted to stay home. I wanted to
stay safe and small in my cozy, known world. There were going to be forty or so women at the shower, in a city that I didn’t know, and besides, my cats would miss me.
Suddenly, I remembered the talk with our granddaughter and had to turn the advice on myself.
My life would be here when I got back. Not much would happen at home in the two days I’d be gone, but if I went, a LOT of memories would be made. I would have fun playing dress-up, meeting new people, enjoying delicious food, and going dancing for the bachelorette party.
Most importantly, I would show my friend how much I value her by spending the time and money to be with her, to nurture our friendship and to celebrate her. Finally, I said YES to life and looked for a hotel.
Sometimes making a single decision isn’t enough. We have to re-commit to saying YES to life over and over when we encounter obstacles, because there will always be obstacles asking us, Are you sure you want to do this? with valid reasons to back out.
We can whisper a small yes, and then back out at the first sign of trouble, or we can shout a big YES and find ways to make it work.
Indianapolis was having a huge event with most rooms sold out. It
took two hours and a lot more money than I anticipated to book a modest room. I really wanted to give up with that legitimate excuse, but I reserved a (non-refundable) room anyway.
The bridal shower theme was Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
Number one, I’m not much on packing.
Number two, I’m not much on planning my attire in advance.
And
Number three, I’m definitely not into shopping to find something to wear for a specific event.
This weekend getaway required all three! I needed a few accessories to turn one of my black dresses into Audrey-Hepburn-style glamour.
My granddaughter and I went shopping the day before my trip. I let her hold my purse while I tried on tiaras and such. I chose a
sparkly headband and a beautiful scarf to drape dramatically around my shoulders.
When I went to pay, my wallet was missing and I panicked. As the clerk announced the total, I didn’t hear the amount because I was so
upset about the missing wallet and anxious to deal with that.
I just happened to have a $100 bill in my purse so I handed him the money, confident it would be more than enough, and then quickly dumped the change and the
receipt into my bag so we could retrace our steps to look for my wallet. It wasn’t in the store, but thankfully we found it in the car.
Later, when I did a dress rehearsal at home to finalize my outfit before packing, I went to clip the large distracting tag from the scarf and saw the word “cashmere.” Immediately I thought, Cashmere?! Oh no, how
much did that thing cost?
It was $40. What? But I'm a clearance diva. I can’t pay $40 for anything for myself, let alone an accessory.
I believe it was a God-shot that I didn’t have my wallet, which distracted me from hearing what it cost. It was also a God-coincidence that I had $100 bill tucked in my purse to pay for it. Had I learned the cost of the scarf at check out, I would have put it back and done without.
First I practiced tying it around me in a way to keep the price tag on it so I could later return it. But then I realized that was poverty consciousness. I’m not the poor kid on welfare and food stamps that I was as a child. I can afford this scarf. Even more so, I deserve to reward myself occasionally with luxurious and beautiful things.
After a few more minutes’ deliberation, I decidedly clipped the scarf’s label and price tag and vowed to keep it as a reward for making the brave decision to get out of my comfort zone and go.
