|My girls. Olivia didn't like this picture so much because she was very pregnant...it was taken a few years ago. She's still cute though, isn't she?|
She wants to help. It's how she expresses her love.
Also, she doesn't really want anyone to help her. She is the queen of I-can-handle-it-alone-thank-you-very-much.
My mom has three daughters. We are all more or less the same way*. When my mom was preparing for her mission, Marianne and Olivia showed up on her doorstep from time to time declaring they were there to help.
My mom resisted. She argued.
(They wanted to help + my mom didn't want help.)
Marianne and Olivia inherited my mom's strong will though. I think they overpowered her occasionally.
I felt bad being so far away, not helping.
(Not that my mom would have wanted me to help.)
Olivia is expecting a new little cherub and without my mom there I am going to go help her when the baby is born. Marianne is her neighbor and as efficient as a Costco checker...you know, the one in the line next to yours, the line you should have chosen...but I want to help anyway.
Olivia told me I didn't have to. She said it wasn't necessary.
(I want to help + she doesn't want me to help.)
She finally relented.
Then I talked to Marianne. She was indignant, slighted. She said, "I can help Olivia! Why does she think I can't handle it?"
(I want to help + Marianne doesn't want me to help.)
I said, "Oh Marianne. You are too much like our mom. So is Olivia. So am I."
She said sadly, "I know. It's a bad combination."
I was telling our brother Enoch about this exchange. He chuckled. Because he knows. He said, "Yeah, there's a tendency to be a little territorial."
There may not be much hope for us.
Still, I love my sisters. And if we are going to be like our mom, we could do a lot worse.
*I think I may differ slightly from them. I have to believe that if any or all of those three showed up on my doorstep, insisting to help me, I would accommodate them. I mean they could make a dent around here.