How to handle disappointment

I’ve experienced my fair share of disappointment lately, as I know we all have.  Whether it’s a health scare, a broken relationship, a passed-over job opportunity, or simply the sharp blow of life’s unruly outcomes, one thing is certain: life doesn’t always go as we’d planned.  In fact, the older I get, I’m getting strangely accustomed to these hiccups.  

I’ll go ahead and put myself on the the operating table, quite literally, for a minute.  At every turn throughout my cancer journey, something went wrong.  It could have been a seamless, one and done, get the cancer out and sew her up kind of situation.  And if that’s your experience, you still earned a purple heart in my book.  But between a genetic mutation, family history of breast cancer on both sides, tidal waves of anxiety, pre-cancer cells found after the double mastectomy, chemotherapy as a result, necrosis/infection of the skin post surgery, removal of the left prosthetic expander, walking around in a body I didn’t (and still don’t) recognize for more than a year, and three more surgeries to reach the finish line (perhaps) of reconstruction, I’m over it.  

And still…

I remain convinced of the plan God’s had all along: “all shall be well,” as Teresa of Avila confidently quipped.  

Not to whip out my journal and unload on you, but I do want to share with you something that has painted me into the most beautiful landscape of life I’ve ever known.  Two words:

And still…

I was approached by a woman in Whole Foods this past week.  Due to my current corkscrew pixie coif, I have become a magnet for women who have also gone through cancer and chemo because let’s just say, they see the silhouette of my uneven frame and the pile of curls on my head and have a hunch.  And I love it.  

She asked me a bit about my story, hoping to align, and started probing deeper. I didn’t begin to know her story, but I could sense a deep sadness and loneliness in her wide brown eyes.  As I smiled and opened up, I sensed her surprise as I detailed my experience and how well I felt despite it all.  Her experience was not as positive.  There was grave disappointment and it leaked out everywhere.  And I get it.   

And still…

The grace I’ve been given each step of the way has steadied my gaze on what I DO have.  I have strength, a loving family, my faith, purpose, a job I love, the gift of a child who’s smile gives me reason to believe, and a community of committed people I don’t deserve, but cling to.  That’s what I’ve focused on.  Every day.  It’s become my most potent prescription. 

There are very few guarantees in this life.  I’ve learned to hold everything openly, gratefully.  But most of all, I consider two tiny words in the face of loss and disappointment.  They tether me not to what’s missing in the moment, but what is there.  

There will always be missing pieces.

And still…