I’ve learned that my disappointment can be measured by the space between my expectations and reality. I was reminded today that sometimes happiness can be measured that way too; particularly if expectations are low and reality is more than you imagined it could be.
In meeting with My Dad’s rehab care team I was disheartened to learn that he still needs more time in physical therapy to get stronger and won’t be coming home this week. I know this is the right thing, but doing what’s right doesn’t always feel good. (Sometimes it never does.)
So, when I went to visit with My Dad today, I expected him to be angry with me. (Maybe because I’m angry that I can’t just fix everything and make it better.)
Instead, although he’s made it clear that he’d much rather be home, he said, “It’s been an interesting few weeks for us, but overall I think our family has been very fortunate. And the best part of it is you. I know you’ve been running and working hard. But we’re really lucky to have you.”
To my credit, I didn’t dissolve into a puddle of tears. But this genuine in the moment acknowledgment made me smile and gave me a little bit of happy where I didn't expect it, but I damn sure needed it.
Take that, Monday.
And so if you get where I am or you can see it from here, check out my podcast: People with Parents.