Dear friend,
“He arose and came to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion, and ran, fell on his neck, and kissed him.
I called my mother-in-law last year while my brother was mid-relapse and told her a version of events with all the sharp edges filed off. Softer than the truth. I did that so she would not worry, but really I did it so I would not have to hear my own voice say how bad it was. I am still not sure that was wrong exactly, but I noticed how much energy it took to keep managing everyone's picture of him.
Two angles have been sitting with me this week. One is Luke 15, the father running down the road before the son finishes his rehearsed speech. The other is how many verses earlier in that same chapter are about searching for what is lost and not finding it yet. Both are true at once. There is a father who runs, and there is a long stretch where the coin is still missing under the furniture. You are allowed to live in the second part without rushing to the first.
What does it cost you, day to day, to keep managing what other people see of him?
A prayer
God, she is tired from carrying what a whole family cannot see. Be near her in the waiting part, before any running down the road happens. Steady her tonight. Amen.