Decisions: The Good and the Not So Good

The dull, overcast morning promised a windy, rainy day and I was tempted to stay in my pjs rather than leave the comfort of my home. However, a visit to the chiropractor was on my agenda, and being a treatment I greatly value, there was no staying at home. That being said, I have to admit that there are some mornings when hibernating from the world is a welcoming pleasure, and it’s then when I decide to stay put and curl up with a hot drink and a good book.

With that confession out of the way, I want to share two stories, each one centred around decisions that had a direct influence on our children’s well being…certainly not life-threatening, but concerning, nonetheless. Remembering such events, my grey matter got me thinking about the whole concept of decision making and how it has such an influence on our lives. Should I, or shouldn’t I? Do we, or don’t we? Can I, or should I wait? I think we would all agree that there is much to be considered when making a decision: things to ponder over and questions to ask, and if that decision alters one’s path in life, certainty is a must. For example, a decision our granddaughter and grandson-in-law have made recently will be life-changing for them and their two month old son. (And it’s a good one, I might add!) But the stirring of my grey matter that unearthed the two memories I’m about to share is centred less on a life-changing decision and more on how someone else’s choice affected our children.

Before proceeding, be assured that the following is nothing short of a simple trip down memory lane, a piece of my memoir, if you will, that has been percolating for several years. And I have little doubt that were you so inclined, you could relate to similar events in your own life. I know I’m not alone on that front.

And so to begin…

Decision # 1
It was a beautiful sunny day in May 1979, one week after Mother’s Day when the call came: “Your daughter has had an accident…” words no mother welcomes. Dropping off my four-year-old son with a neighbour, I sped down County Road 31 to Plover Mills Public School (We lived in a village outside of London, Ontario and the children attended a rural school). I found our seven-year-old daughter in tears, very much in pain, and holding her left arm. The principal greeted me with, “It was a poor decision that resulted in an unfortunate accident” and my first thoughts at the sound of his words were, A poor decision? Whose? and, Aren’t all accidents unfortunate? Jennifer (as she was known back then…or Jennie!) had been a victim of two over zealous Grade 8 girls who decided that it would be fun to swing their little friend in the air, each holding a wrist and an ankle. No doubt in their minds it was a harmless act. All was well until the bell rang, signaling the end of recess. Each girl thought the other held Jennie but they both let go. Got the picture? Propelled into space our daughter sailed through the air and landed hard on her left arm. Needless to say there were tears shed by the older girls, but I let the principal handle that.

Taking my eleven-year-old son with me, we raced to a small town hospital (St. Mary’s Hospital was closest, but the decision to go there proved to be a mistake.) X-rays confirmed surgery was necessary and needed to be done in London. With the large manila envelope in hand that contained the x-rays , a crying daughter in the front seat, and my older son in the back seat attempting to bring some comfort to his sister by reciting “My God shall provide all your needs according to His riches in Christ Jesus,” (Philippians 4:19), I drove the forty-minute drive at breakneck speed with my hazard lights flashing. It may not have been the best decision, but wouldn’t any mother have done that? You know, the-mother-hen- protecting-her-chick scenario!

The decision to go to London proved correct. A second x-ray showed surgery was not necessary, and Jennie was given a full arm cast and sent home to heal.

Decision 2
It was another beautiful sunny day a few weeks later and it was to be an overnighter at David’s house. With his small bike packed into the trunk of our car, Bradley jumped into the front seat, excited about the adventure that lay ahead. It lasted less than half a day. Another alarming call came: “Bradley’s fallen from his bike and has a big gash on his forehead between his eyes. He needs a doctor!” And off we went, back to St. Mary’s Hospital. This time, however, the visit only involved cleaning a wound and taping it closed. No x-rays. No frantic drive to London. Good decision, I thought, as we headed home.

Bed time came and all was quiet. Bradly had been sleeping for a few hours. We’d settled Jennifer into bed with her arm resting on a pillow and she was fast asleep, as was Stewart. (He had yet to have a brick fall on his head, that came a few weeks later.) Doug and I were ready to call it a day but not before one last check on our youngest. “What’s that on his face?” I whispered to Doug as we both bent over our sleeping child. “It’s blood!” he gasped. “It’s in his ear and all over his pillow!” I leaned forward and saw a small gusher from the open wound pumping a trail of blood over Bradley’s face without him even being awake! Ten-thirty at night! Now what? Well, Doug simply called Dr. Green, of course. With his office one block away and his residence next door to his office (the beauty of living in a small village), we ran to his office and he met us in minutes. “This young fellow needs stitches? Who decided to use tape?” He rolled his eyes when we said, “It wasn’t us!” Nothing more needed to be said, he simply froze the cut and stitched it closed. Bradley was amazing! Despite having two exhausted parents, he was none the worse for wear and brandished two black eyes for a few weeks to boast of his exploits.

For sure both stories are sprinkled with decisions, some good, some not so good. But that’s what makes life interesting—if not challenging—to say the least. After all, parenthood is dotted with these moments. Once the angst, the weariness, and the what next fears have abated, we easily look back and tell the story without that haunting thought of wondering what lies around the corner.

Oh, and Stewart’s accident…that was the same Spring. Climbing a roof at a friend’s house, a brick fell from the chimney’s edge and landed on his head. Of course, even now—as I did then—I can’t help wondering, “What in the world was he thinking?” A bad decision resulted in stitches and a scar!

Hopefully my trip down memory lane has brought a smile, maybe even awakened one of your own memories. That was my intent! Regardless, happy decision-making…and maybe if it’s a dull, overcast morning, stay home and curl up with a good book and a hot drink, and let your grey matter take you down memory lane 🙂

God’s Word on decision-making: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight” (Proverbs 3:5-6).