Counter Measures

Yesterday morning we sent in the big guns. Dear Husband Dave went over to talk to Mom.

Loren and I joke that Dave is Mom's favorite child. And we're not really joking. Dave really does have a great manner with Mom. He truly cares for her. She listens to him. Dave's words carry a lot of weight with Mom. Plus he holds the trump card; he is Mom's pastor. Mom is from the old school where being a pastor is a lofty, revered position. Once I was talking to Mom about needing to remove pine needles from my roof.

Mom: You're not going to get up there, are you?

Gwen: No, Dave is.

Mom: Oh no! He can't do it!

Gwen: Why not? We've got insurance.

Mom: Why, he's the pastor!

So, you get the picture. The big guns. I thought for sure Dave would change Mom's mind. He talked with her about the value of relationships and the power of words. He talked with her about the lasting effect of last words. He talked with her about the insignificance of all else when compared to a person's relationship with God.

Mom agreed with him. But she made no plans to change her course of action. She is confident that her words will be well-received. She is sure she is being sensitive in her dealings. And she is certain she is right.

Me, I'm not so sure. I don't look forward to the fallout. I hate to think of the damage done to fragile relationships. And, as I reflect on a lifetime of mother-daughter interaction, I'm sorry to admit that there is more than a little relief that at least her displeasure is not aimed at me.