Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Knowing What Is Best: The Value of Another's Perspective (Life Changing Moments Series)

The following story from Kelly Williamson is one that speaks to me personally, though I'll refrain from giving away her story since she does an excellent job of presenting it herself. Kelly is an assistant principal at an elementary school, a new position she took after teaching for 10 years. She's always loved to write, and for much of her life considered writing a hobby, working on short stories, picture books, and personal narratives for her own enjoyment. As a teacher, she shared much of her writing with her students. She's always had the philosphy that a writing teacher has to be a writer first and use that material as a way to exemplify the process for students. Kelly's family is currently dealing with the effects of her mother's sudden mental breakdown and refusal to seek treatment. Her mother's complete change in personality has been a tragic loss, and this experience has drawn Kelly into writing with a passion greater than she's ever felt. Learn more about Kelly via her blog,

Kelly Williamson, mother/daughter

Christmas morning at our house has always been joyful, even when my husband and I were first starting out and had little extra to spend. For me, it’s never been about the gifts but having time to enjoy and appreciate special moments with family. The anticipation of seeing my children walk into the living room to gaze at the wonders Santa has left usually causes me to lose sleep on Christmas Eve. This year, I lost sleep, but more because of a painful realization that this Christmas was going to be difficult. Waking up that morning, I had no idea how right I was to dread the events about to play out.

Several days before Christmas, my mother was hospitalized in a mental health facility for the second time in as many months. The pain of that reality consumed my family in the days leading up to the holiday, but we were all doing our best to preserve what we could for the sake of my two children. They would miss the big turkey dinner at my parent’s house and all the festivity that went with it. The day would not be the same, but we had to try. My mother had made it clear: She did not want to see any of us, but we had a plan, and we were ready to put on brave faces for the sake of the kids. Then, the phone rang.

A Decision to Make
The sound of my mother’s voice was comforting, though her words were agonizing, “I know I said I didn’t want to see you today, but this is my favorite holiday. Can you come see me? I want to see the kids.”

My husband was in the shower, readying himself for the day, when she called. “Who was that on the phone?”

I explained to him that she had called and wanted us to bring the kids to see her. I told him how she had a room set aside for the visit. He looked down at the floor, and I knew I was asking too much, yet there I stood, asking. As he looked me in the eyes, I could see the mix of emotions he felt at that moment. It was hard for him to see me in such pain, and he had done everything in his power to help me through this tragedy, but this was more than he could give.

“I cannot let you bring the kids there. That is not a place for them, and certainly not on Christmas Day. You can go, but the kids are staying with me.”

Giant tears rolled down my cheeks, raw from the sheer amount of time spent crying over the last several weeks, but I knew he was right. I had never been inside the hospital, and I had no idea what to expect. I was apprehensive about going myself, afraid of what I’d see. My head knew he was right, though my heart was torn apart.

We plodded our way through the day, making a few stops before ending up at my sister’s house for dinner. Dad wasn’t going to join us for dinner or presents; it was too painful for him, but he’d be there later so we could ride to the hospital together. My daughter, old and perceptive enough to get the gist of what was going on, asked if she could come with us to visit. I hugged her and told her she couldn’t, and as I peered over her shoulder, my sister nodded in agreement.

I could feel my heart pounding as I saw Dad’s headlights pull into my sister’s driveway. I once again approached my husband, asking if he was sure the kids shouldn’t go; it was Christmas, there was a room set aside. He was steadfast in his position, and I did not push.

As Dad came into the house, his face revealed the kind of day he’d had. “Ready?”

We grabbed our coats from the closet, and I had trouble making eye-contact. I knew he was wondering, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Are the kids coming?”

“No. It’s not the place for them.”

“Okay, let’s get going. She’s expecting us.”

No Turning Back
As we drove, the car was mostly silent. At one point, my dad asked how the kids were doing. My sister mentioned how my daughter had wanted to come with us. My dad replied that we probably should have let her come, and my heart splintered into pieces. As we pulled into the parking lot, I was second-guessing my decision. Should I have tried harder to convince my husband? I felt paralyzed in the car, but I managed my way into the building, my heart beating out of control.

The buzzer sounded, and I saw her through the narrow window in the door, hair done up and wearing a festive red sweater. She smiled when she saw us, but I could see the look of concern as she came closer to the door.

“Where are the kids?” Her face was distraught. “Are they coming?”

“No, Mom, they aren’t coming. It’s been a rough day on them. They don’t understand what’s going on.”

She stormed down the hall and around the corner to the community room, where she sat at the head of a long table. We took seats around her and tried to make small talk, but she wouldn’t look at us. She was rummaging through a bag, pulling out papers and making piles on the table. She started talking about this being yet another disappointment, and we should not have even come. We tried to engage her, but she wanted nothing to do with us. She told us to leave, and my dad and sister led the way toward the exit. I lagged behind as she packed up her papers. I wanted to explain to her why I couldn’t bring them, that I was sorry she was struggling, but she brushed by without a glance in my direction. She escorted us to the door, and I had broken down at that point. Finally, she looked directly into my eyes.

“Thanks for ruining my Christmas, Kelly.”

With that the doors opened, and some EMT’s rolled past us with a disheveled man strapped to a gurney, obviously a new admission to the unit. The doors closed behind us, and I wanted to rush back. Why was seeing me not enough? Couldn’t she see that the kids didn’t belong in a place like this? Instead, I crumbled in the elevator, sobbing harder than I had in years.

It Was the Right Choice
That was over four months ago, and I will say that it took me a long time to get over what happened on Christmas Day. Being in the position of having to choose between your mother and your children is an impossible one, but we all thank our lucky stars that my husband had the clarity of mind to make the right decision. I was so emotionally involved that I was not capable of making the best decision.

She wanted them there, and if it had been up to me they would have gone, and that would have been wrong. An environment like that is highly unpredictable, and they could have seen or heard things that could have been frightening. They would have seen a man strapped to a gurney. On Christmas Day. I would have regretted that decision.

In life, when things get emotionally charged, there is no substitute for the perspective of someone less involved. Emotions can cloud our judgment, they can prevent us from seeing clearly and making wise judgments. From this devastating situation I have taken this lesson, it will guide my way into the uncertain future, and for that I will be eternally grateful.


If you think you have a great life changing moment to share (and you probably have several), click here to learn how to get the conversation started. I'm sure if you think it's important, I may too.


Connect with me on Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn. Plus, sign up for free e-mail updates from this blog in the top right-hand corner of the page.


Check out previous posts from the Life Changing Moments Series:


Kasie Whitener said...

Wow, Kelly! Just, wow. Your writing is beautful and your strength is amazing. Thanks for sharing your journey with our #MNINB group.

And thanks, Robert, for bringing us all out and together.

Laura Howard said...

I have to say - I admire your strength, because, as a daughter, no matter how sick your mom is, it's easy to be that little girl that wants her approval so badly. Good for your husband for having that strength for you when you were low.

Joanna said...

Wow to you and your husband! Thanks for sharing this incredibly tough moment with us, and that truth about another's perspective.

Jeannine Bergers Everett said...

Amazing post Kelly. Sometimes it's so hard to choose reality over possibility, especially when that possibility is so precious.

Susan Craig said...

Kelly, Thank you for sharing. I hope it was cathertic for you as well as incredibly powerful for us.

Claudette Young said...

Kelly, what you had to do took strength from a depth such as most will never know. That you allowed your husband to override your desires and that of your mother is to your credit.

It is never easy to see the right or wrong in that kind f situation, and even more difficult under the circumstances that prevailed for you. You should be proud that you've made it this far and are working through to make it to the end of the long tunnel.

Perspective is sometimes the most difficult factor to gain or to appreciate. I'm happy that you have the love and support that you do, and that you have the deep, strong center that will allow you to make such decisions.

Blessings to you, and a hearty thank you for sharing this amazing story.

Lynn said...

What a tough moment to go through. You're right, when you're emotionally tied up with something, it's hard to see the clarity of the situation.

Kelly Williamson said...

Thanks for the great feedback, and a special thanks to Robert for featuring my story. With a positive outlook and determination, I think it'll be okay! Check out my blog:

Lara Britt said...

Thank you, Kelly, for having the courage to speak your own truth. Family matters can be so difficult to navigate with clarity especially with the heightened expectations of the holidays. I think you have just validated all of us who used the rubric "what is best for the children" in making a tough call.

Gerry said...

Kelly, what a beautiful piece. I've never experienced anything quite like that, but I felt like I was right there with you.

Sarah said...

Thanks so much, Kellly. I know you had to relive each difficult moment in order to write this raw piece that is so seamless and moving.

If the truth truly sets us free, you are well on the way to healing. Peace and gratituderionge giour

Sarah said...

oops, I typed the 'not robot' code into the message. kinda ruined the mood, don't you think?!!!

Veronica Roth said...

Kelly, this is heart wrenching and very moving. I have to deal with a psychotic cousin who no one in the family will deal with. Brings chilling thoughts. Thank goodness you have your sister and dad to help. Oh, and husband is def. a keeper! Much love to you.

Muddy said...

Oh, Kelly, this was heartwrenching! I felt your pain at being pulled between the desires or your mom, the wisdom of your husband, and the needs of your kids. That was a no win situation, but I think you did win, because you did what was best for your kids. Still, I'm sure it's not easy knowing you disappointed your mom in the process. I wish you nothing but the best in this painful journey. I don't know what will happen, but I do know you have the strength to get through it!

Susan said...

Kelly, I feel your pain. My mom has been in and out of mental facilities several times in the last 20 years. The most recent was a suicide attempt last summer, and the ensuing family meeting was awful. You did a great job of conveying that in this piece.

Of course your first responsibility is to your own family, and you're blessed to have a husband who could balance your perspective and help you make a right decision.

Misky said...

A compelling story that really makes a person stop and take stock of their daily blessings. Thank you for sharing it.

Robert Lee Brewer said...

I just want to thank you again for sharing this story, Kelly. Thank you!

cynthia said...

I have tried dozens of love spells and had no success. I was online and came across Dr egogo Spells. I was having an issue with my partner we have both been separated for 4months. I thought I would try one more time. I was told that my case would be done in so little time. I must admit I was a bit skeptical with my past experiencs and all. However 2days later here I am back together with my partner and we are doing better then ever. If it was not for Anna Walton I do not know how I would be able to cope with life any longer. Thank you so much for all your help

Anonymous said...

Kelly you are an amazing writer! I'm so sorry you and your family have experienced this kind if pain. In a happy that you found such constructive ways to deal with this heartache.
Kim B.