Grace in Letting It Be

Wrestling with Half-Truths

In the beginning, I found it undignified to lie to my dad. (Don’t get me wrong, there were times in my adolescent years, lying to get out of trouble came pretty easily.) He used to ask about his truck everyday and with peace, I could tell him it was in the driveway at his house because that was the truth.

Then the day came when he asked, “Have you seen your grandma lately?” and I could answer not lately. This wasn’t a complete lie, just a half truth.

Living in His Reality

As time passed, it got more difficult to answer in half truths. I found myself outright lying to my father. This did not feel like the human dignity he earned and deserved from his daughter.

It started with days when I would gently go along with the version of the world he’s living in—because peace matters more than accuracy. Then I realized to go along with the story he was living was the best way to still have a conversation with my dad, I justified my lies. I believed I was showing grace by letting go of control of the narrative.

A Morning with Memaw hunter

Today, I don’t know if my lie was right or wrong… But he woke up on the ornery side of the bed. (His mother was the disciplinarian and he very much believes she lives in the same place where he lives.)

While trying to get him ready for breakfast as he was being especially mischievous and messy, I said, “You know how Grandma likes to keep the house clean, you are going to get both of us in trouble.”

Was this a lie of grace, a lie of necessity, or a lie of selfishness? I knew the threat of Memaw Hunter might just be enough to get him to do what I needed him to do. He laughed and said, “WHoooWeee, we better not make a mess! She will be in here with the broom to get us.”

We both laughed, but the sting of using her memory to guide his behavior lingered longer than I expected.

Mercy In Telling the Truth

Painful Facts Over Breakfast

The dining room is one of my favorite places at the memory care unit. It is a new adventure everyday- literally.

This morning one of the residents asked, “Where is my momma?”

The answer given was factual, truthful, but painful. The nurse with sympathy said, “Your mom is deceased.”

The pain on the resident’s face was as real as I can imagine the pain must have been the day her mom died. She looked grief stricken and asked, “Well, what happened to her?” The nurse answered again in simple facts, she died of old age.

The resident looked at the nurse with grief and confusion and said, “She couldn’t have been that old, I am only forty-one.”

With a little chuckle, the nurse said, “We are all over forty – one.” She looked up the residents birthday and told her today’s date and helped her calculate that she was actually eighty-four.

This wonderfully, sweet lady said, “Well, I guess my mom was old!”

Back to Peace, For Now

After this, breakfast plates were served and all was well in her world again. But – this isn’t the first time she has asked for her mom and it will not be the last.

“A harmless truth is a lie if it is told with cruel intent; a lie can be kindness when it keeps someone whole.” – folk wisdom

Still figuring it out

I still don’t know the answer to the question is it better to lie to keep the peace or tell the truth to honor one’s dignity?

I have made this decision: I would not be able to stand the pain on my dad’s face to tell him his beloved mother and father are deceased.

But even though, my grandma’s spirit was enough to get my dad to toe the line this morning. Next time, I’ll try to find another way — one that balances his peace with my need to honor him.

I’m still learning.

So for now, I will offer grace by letting some things be — and mercy by telling the truth, when it’s mine to tell.