Role Reversal
It hit me the other night how the roles had suddenly reversed.
Let me explain.
Over Thanksgiving break, my parents were suppose to be in town to celebrate with us.
Given their age and current health, we decided last minute that it would be better for them to stay home and not travel the long distance.
It was the right decision and in my parents’ best interest, no doubt about it.
But I was still sad.
“Was last Thanksgiving our last time together?” (My mom and sister drove up to celebrate.)
My mom and I cooking Thanksgiving dinner in Rita’s kitchen (2014).
I love this moment of John & Rita watching as both families - Edges and Colletts - gather for our first Thanksgiving together (2013).
I wasn’t catastrophizing, just coming to grips with the reality at hand - we live far apart, they are older, travel is getting harder, and no one is promised a tomorrow.
At the time, we weren’t really sure how bad my mom’s dementia was nor how safe they were living on their own. We were still in the mindset that we needed to move them up to Nashville as soon as possible and the weight of how, when, and where were really heavy on us.
After touring several assisted living communities, I texted Rita and asked if while family was in town, she and I could find a quite spot so she could share with me what it was like when she had to move her mom to an assisted living facility.
I wasn’t handling this well and of course Rita said yes.
I didn’t have to text her to talk with her, I just wanted her to know I valued her insight and knew she loved my parents and had walked this difficult road before.
She is an oh so reasonable person to talk to about this kind of stuff and I needed her levelheadedness.
A few days later, as I was standing in her kitchen, with Lisa and the kids nearby at the table, something about my mom came up and I broke down.
I know I talk about crying a lot on here, but I swear it doesn’t happen as often as you think. I think I just write about those times because they stand out to me…like this moment does.
I don’t know if I’ve ever cried in front of Justin’s family before.
That just doesn’t happen.
There would be no need really.
But there in Rita’s kitchen, I just folded.
The loss of my mom seemed unbearable.
Rita came instantly to me and wrapped her arms around me.
I’ve received many Rita hugs, but this one was different.
There were no pats, just holding.
And then I looked up and Lisa had tears streaming down her face as she rushed over to join the hug.
I’ve never felt so loved and seen by Justin’s family in all these years…and they’ve been wonderful.
But it was something in that moment of loss where I knew I was standing on my own, but the grief was shared. The weight wasn’t on my shoulders alone.
They stood there with me.
And now here we are, less than 6 weeks later, and the roles are reversed.
Lisa is in my shoes.
And this doesn’t seem right.
I am older than her.
My parents are older than Rita.
This all seems backwards.
As I snuggled up to Justin after an incredibly hard day this week, I shared all this.
Just two months ago, he was comforting me as I feared the worst for my mom and now here I am comforting him after the worst was confirmed.
It doesn’t seem right.
I won’t say doesn’t seem fair because what’s fair?
But it doesn’t seem right.
It feels like a bad dream and I wish they weren’t going through this.
I wish Lisa’s tears on her face were still for me and not for what she’s facing.
So I pray for strength so that I can help Lisa and Lauren and Justin, John and Rita, through the coming weeks and months of challenges just as I know they would have helped me.
I pray for health and healing over every single one of them.
I pray that the Lord’s hand touches each and every one of their hearts and holds them so close.
I pray that if their knees buckle underneath them from the emotional weight they are carrying, that my knees are straightened so I can come beside them and help them stand.
Lord, I pray peace over their minds. That they are full of love and comfort, knowing God’s hand is in this too, steering and guiding us all back to Him.
And God, I ask boldly, that next Thanksgiving, I may be standing in Rita’s kitchen once again while she and John cook, with Lisa and all the kids at the table, and my parents joining in the festivities too.
What a day of thanks giving that would be!!!
2013
2026
