Better Connection

Are You Avoiding a Difficult Conversation with a Loved One?

Why you should not wait

At seventy-eight years old, Helen was a tough old bird.

At times, her conversations were laced with cuss words.

She was just as likely to cuff one of her twenty-one grown-up grandchildren in the back of the head for doing or saying something she deemed stupid as she was to give them a hug or kiss them on the forehead.

Well into her older years, Helen still fed half the neighborhood with made-from-scratch food. Her six children, well into their forties and fifties, often stopped for meals.

A fair number of her grandchildren never had to learn how to cook because they just stopped by Helen’s house to eat.

She never turned anyone away.

Helen has always filled my heart with love.

She is my wife’s mother, and I love her.

And cancer loved Helen too.

Helen battled cancer for more than eighteen months. Surgery and several rounds of chemo led to mixed results.

At one point, in mid-December of 2016, she and my wife, Teresa, made three trips to the hospital in just three days.

Teresa normally keeps her cards pretty close to her chest.

Outside of logistics, we hadn’t had much in the way of conversation regarding her mother’s diagnosis.

I knew she was scared.

She just hadn’t said it out loud to me.

She isn’t inclined to reveal much about how she’s feeling. It leaves her feeling too vulnerable.

Teresa and I were having coffee in the kitchen the Saturday before Thanksgiving. It was about six in the morning.

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I didn’t want opportunity or time to slip through our hands regarding Helen.

So, I asked the question I had been afraid to voice for a number of months.

“Teresa, have you considered the possibility that this could be the last Thanksgiving with your mother?”

Her eyes slowly drifted down. Her gaze focused on the kitchen counter.

And the room became silent.

A minute passed.

Then another minute.

Teresa started to fidget with her hands. That was a sure sign she was upset, that her heart was troubled.

A third minute ticked off without a word spoken.

I fought the urge to fill the silence myself.

Finally, she answered. “Yes,” she said. “I’m scared.”

I continued to wait without saying anything.

I was hoping my silence would encourage her to speak. I felt like she needed a chance to open up.

“I really think I need to retire so I can be with her to help her.”

“That’s fine, Teresa. We can make that happen if that’s what you want to do.”

The tears started then. My heart clenched, watching Teresa struggle to hold her emotions in check.

“I want to be there for my mom. I want her to know she is loved.”

Teresa’s guard came down more with each minute that passed. Moving through the initial awkwardness of a scary subject helped her begin to open up about how she was feeling.

She found her voice enough to say the scary things in her mind out loud.

And as the conversation continued, she began to feel better as she unburdened more of those feelings and shared them with me.

We talked for some time about her mother’s life that morning, which had been difficult at best at times.

We talked about how well Teresa’s life had worked out for herself and her own children because Helen was always there for her.

Helen’s support with watching the kids and filling in as a driver at times, getting them to appointments or practices, getting them fed, and homework finished had allowed Teresa to focus on bringing home the money to support her kids, one of the biggest challenges single mothers face.

We talked about all the good Helen had done over the course of her life and how she shared her love with people through the food she made for them.

It was a great conversation.

It finished with Teresa deciding she needed to run to Burger King to pick up french toast sticks for her mom.

Burger King’s french toast sticks were one of the few things that tasted good enough for Helen to eat.

Scary questions, even when necessary, are tough to ask.

“I don’t want her to cry or be upset.”

“I don’t want him to get mad.”

“I don’t want to offend her.”

“I don’t want to cause any pain.”

Reality seems scary because it sometimes is.

There have been times for me when the very thought of having a tough conversation left me feeling like my world could start to fall apart as soon as I opened my mouth.

It never really has, but my mind often makes it seem like it will.

Some conversations are tough.

But sometimes, not having them makes things in life even tougher.

Keeping those things hidden gives power to the darkness we contend with.

Sometimes, having a tough conversation, even when we don’t want to, sheds a different light on the scary stuff.

And sometimes, a tough conversation makes Thanksgiving Day, and every other day after the conversation, more meaningful.

The talk itself can burst the bubble of darkness that is too easy to get lost in and allow us to see reality more clearly.

And maybe even some light.

Sometimes a tough conversation gives us a reason to celebrate.

And make a run to Burger King.

Early that Saturday, Helen was on her way over to our house, and her daughter would soon be back with some french toast sticks.

A little surprise for Helen’s Saturday morning.

Keep the Faith. Love Wins.

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