I have never understood concession stands! I mean, I know what they are, and have made use of them through the years when I’ve been hungry or thirsty at a sporting event. But what I don’t get is WHY they’re called that, i.e. concessions.

A concession is something given up or allowed due to demand. I guess you could argue that when food or drink is demanded the concession is to provide food and drink. But since you always have to PAY for the concession I think that is an extremely odd and misleading way to use the term.

However, I made what I’d call a concession a week or two ago: I finally decided that cutting our grass (which I can no longer physically do) should not continue to burden my youngest daughter, so . . . I have now hired someone to do the deed. Now it’s true that money will change hands, and in that sense my concession sounds a great deal like the word usage I just decried. But consider this: what I conceded was the responsibility of either doing the work myself, or having my daughter do it; that is, I gave in to the demands (both physical and otherwise) thrust upon me. The ensuing cost was not my primary concession.

Concession is like waving a white flag when your wagons have been encircled and you have no more fight in you; much like surrender. And I’ve had to concede a number of things through the years. I’m sure you have, too. Much of the time . . . I don’t like having to make the concession. Whether it involves changes in health, changes in finances (in a downward trend), changes in relationships (sometimes the breaking of them), etc. the concession, the giving up, the surrendering of something you possess, or a point of view you espouse – it is more often than not . . . very hard.

Nevertheless, you concede. There may be evidence of “claw marks” on the object you once possessed, but at some point you will let loose, you will concede. It may be a severe heart attack (as it was for me years ago), it may be financial ruin, it may be the death of a loved one for whom you’ve prayed, or it may be a shattered relationship that cannot be repaired. At some point you let go, you allow the new reality to simply be, you drop your fists, you silence your vitriol, you ACCEPT.

Unlike the concessions you receive at the ballgame, the concessions YOU make may not taste nearly as good. At least . . . not to you. You approached the concession stand counter voluntarily to buy your treats, but most of the time the situations that demand your own concessions are brought right to you whether you want them or not. Some will be extremely bitter.

My lovely wife’s health began to teeter about 4 & 1/2 years ago; we had no idea at the time that that was a prelude to what was to come. And she is not out-of-the-woods yet, although we pray daily for her healing. But the whole family has had to make concessions. Truly, when one family member goes through struggle, the whole family struggles, each part in its own unique way.

Factually, the concession stand is called what it is because legally the vendor has received a “concession” (permission giving allowance) from the powers-that-be to sell food and drink in a given place. So, I’ve learned something in the process of writing this blog; I was focusing on the recipient of the food and drink when in actuality the term applies to the vendor. So . . . I concede; I was wrong. (And what a bitter pill it is to say so)

“Still and again” (as a friend of mine used to say) the topic of concession-making in life is a worthy one. Concessions are part and parcel of the lives we live, and always will be. But sometimes acceptance is hard to come by. Is it for you, too?