I had a really good plan...See me now!

We decide how to show up for the people in our lives based on what we think they need. We sit down, reflect, and craft a plan, convinced we’ve cracked the code on how to support them. We arrive ready to execute, armed with solutions we believe are perfect for their situation. But then, we get there, and everything we planned gets turned upside down.

I experienced this recently with my parents, who are navigating new difficult health diagnoses. In my mind, I had it all figured out: hospital visits, medical logistics, and practical support. I was ready to do and check tasks off my list. But when I arrived, my dad didn’t need my carefully curated plan. Instead, he handed me a manuscript for a book he’s been writing, asking me to figure out what to do with it. Then, he pointed to his ancient desktop computer - a relic from when they first opened their office. It’s painfully slow, can’t connect to the internet, and holds critical files trapped in outdated software. He needed help transferring everything to a laptop, fixing gadgets that have been limping along at a snail’s pace for years.

I felt a pang of guilt. Why hadn’t I noticed these issues sooner? These were things I could have fixed long ago, yet here I was, only now seeing the practical ways I could make their lives easier. I was busy. Busy with my job that I was really passionate about. We are all busy. We just need to remember that life is more than the immediate thing thats keeping us busy.

My mom had her own requests, and they weren’t about hospital visits or medical plans either. She just wanted me to be there. To sit and listen as she talked, without dismissing her concerns or offering quick fixes. She wanted to cook for me, watch me eat, roast maize, walk to the milk shop together, and have a simple conversation - no agenda, no rush.  Walk her here and there and back home because she’s worried about safety now - a couple of accidents later, or drive her to her banana plantation so she could tend to it herself, cutting fruit and doing what brings her joy.

This flipped everything I thought I knew. I realised I had been showing up for my plan, not for them. My intentions were good, but I was focused on tasks that made me feel useful, not on what they truly needed. I think I have always known it, but I have been terrible at actioning it. In the last two weeks, I have been politely reminded that showing up for others isn’t about imposing our ideas of help, it’s about listening, observing, and meeting them where they are. It’s about letting them guide how our presence can best serve them.

50th Wedding Anniversary

Spending intentional time with my parents, who have dedicated their lives to caring for me, has been a humbling lesson. It’s easy to carry pride, ego, or a sense of “I know best” into these moments. But I am learning to set those aside and truly hear what they need at this stage of their lives. It’s not about my checklist, it is about their comfort, their joy, and their sense of being seen. My dad had this really worn piece of paper that he said was his mothers baptism card. He needed me to use this AI he keeps hearing about to clean it up and clearly show dates and important details. I failed. My cousin Brenda jumped on a bus to Kabale, went to Kabale Diocese and came back a few days later with a clear version of the Baptism card from 1934. His next ask to me was to use this AI to show him what he looked like when he was age 7 or therabout. I am no good at this, I realised, when AI spat out a picture that sent me rolling on the floor. I still need to figure that out and clearly my friends who tried to help could use help too. I also need to convince my siblings to take the pictures he wants to update a picture of the family that he believes one of us stole. Its my brother, I know he has it! Took it with good intentions and forgot to return it. 

Attempts to use AI to get that 7 year old face. Not successful!

I hope I do not forget this lesson once again. I hope I constantly remember to show up not for myself, but for them, in the ways that matter most. Because when we listen, we create space for the people we love to benefit from our presence in ways we never could have planned. The best laid plan can work for you, just not so well for the person you planned for but did not involve.