Today I Found My Disappointment

Apr 16

Apr 16 Today I Found My Disappointment

Today I found my disappointment.

It was out on the balcony. I haven't stepped out on my balcony in over a year. The paint is chipping badly. There are nails coming up. The patio furniture needs replacing. Because of these things, I told myself the balcony is unusable.

Three summers ago, I had barely made it out of divorce court. I had just started a new job after being unemployed for over a year and almost losing the house. There was no time for relaxing out there. I had to prove myself at work. Last summer, I was promoted to director. No time for the balcony. No time at all.

All winter, I haven't even opened the door to the balcony. Once I covered the furniture with plastic, I sealed it up. It's funny that less than ten feet away, in the middle of my living room, the house feels alive with the present. I can hear my son playing. I can hear music and us laughing together. I can smell food cooking in the kitchen.

And just a few feet away, behind one door and a screen, is the large balcony with a huge, breathtaking view of the valley, virtually unused for three years now. So I went out there today to clean up. The tarp I covered the furniture with had disintegrated. There was a sea of pine needles covering the wooden planks, which upon sweeping are even more badly in need of paint.

And as I swept away the needles and leaves, unstacked the chairs, and flipped upright the tables, I broke apart in tears. I know what is out here. My last real memories here are my son, still in his highchair, sitting under the canopy before the wind wore it down. The barbecue going while it still had gas. My husband relaxing on a lounge chair with a drink while I chopped vegetables inside.

My life has been truly blessed the past few years. I don't regret where it has taken me. But sometimes disappointment isn't about wishing for something different. It's just about acknowledging what you had hoped would be and letting it be what it is. It's sad to lose things, even when you are better off without them.

There was a lot of hope on this balcony. But that is where it remained. Inside was strife and resentment. We probably came out here to breathe and look out at the view. The view I am finally enjoying now as I write, and take a deep breath, and let the tears flow and then dry out.

Where are you hiding your disappointment? Get in there and sweep it out.