The Sting of Disappointment

Earlier this week I was sitting in court waiting for my cases to be called and reading Team of Rivals.  It is about Abraham Lincoln and the other three men who were also ran for president in the 1860 election.  The saga I read as I waited was about how the insignificant Abraham Lincoln shockingly won the Republican nomination for president.  The book then talked about the reactions and feelings of great disappointment and hurt for each of the other three contenders, Chase, Bates, and Seward.  The empathetic side of me could strongly feel their pain.

(Edward Bates - 26th United States Attorney General)

As I walked home from court I pondered – was it worth it for them to have tried and lost?  Or would it have been better for them to have never tried, and never had to experience these terrible feelings of failure and disappointment?  I really couldn’t make up my mind as I tossed it round and round in my head.  On one hand, they had the chance to be P-R-E-S-I-D-E-N-T.  On the other hand, there was the intense hurt, embarrassment, wasted time in an endeavor that never came to fruition, bitterness, and yes, the disappointment of shattered dreams.

 (William Seward - 24th Secretary of State and ardent anti-slavery advocate.)

In favor of facing disappointment there were two things I kept coming back to.  The love of my high school and college years used to often say to me, it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.  I never agreed with him.  I thought the pain of losing was too great.  It was better to never know what you didn’t have because the hurt would be less.  Nevertheless, I fell in love, and spent years knowing the great agony of losing someone you love so greatly.  I would often ask myself in the depths of the pain, was this worth it?  Sometimes the answer was no, but more often than not, the answer was yes.  He made me human.  He enriched my life.  In fact, he made my life, even years after his great presence was gone from it.  When I cried about it, as I so often did, I would think – this is what made me human. And I cherished it. Yes, even the pain.

 (Salmon P. Chase - 6th Chief Justice of the United States)

The strongest persuasion in this inner debate was this quote which has always greatly inspired me:

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
~Teddy Roosevelt, April 23, 1910

  (Teddy Roosevelt - 26th President of the United States)

His quote really resonates with me.  I’ve never wanted to be one of those “cold timid souls” who knows neither victory nor defeat.  The quote has always made me want to jump in, and try despite everything.  Were Seward, Bates and Chase somehow better off for trying?

I couldn’t decide.  On the other hand the disappointment they felt was for the rest of their lives.  They felt let down, and betrayed by their friends.  The pain was deep and real.  In some ways they carried that pain to their graves. I don’t want to belittle that pain.  It is real, and it hurts.  And I don’t want to belittle the experience of my pain in having loved and lost either.  I lived through all the stages of grief.  There was great numbness when I couldn’t feel anything.  There were times when I would cry every morning for months because it hurt so badly.  There were years, when I’d be driving down the highway and unexpectedly start crying because I still missed him so much that my subconscious would resurface the pain when my conscious didn’t realize its guard was down.

These emotions are real and poignant and they affect us physically.

In light of the backdrop of this inner debate I went on a date last week with a guy who took me dancing.  He wasn’t someone that caught my eye prior to going.  But on the dance floor he was amazing.  We danced all night.  It took me four days to walk or laugh without being sore, which was amazing to me because I generally run five miles a day.  I had so, SO much fun.  During the night, the live band kept announcing that they were playing again the following week.  And he kept saying he’d like to come back for that.  When he left to return home, I told him he was welcome back.  But he never came back.  He never called.  He never communicated that he wasn’t coming.  And the truth of the matter is I was really disappointed. 

I wanted to go dancing with him again.

It turns out another friend invited me this week to go to the same dance floor, with the same band, so I still got to go.  But not a single guy there could dance as well as him.  The guys with us were even worse.  It just wasn’t the same.  Last night, I dreamed that he sent me a card, unexpectedly went out of town and I didn’t get the card until the day after.  The explanation made me feel so much better, and then I woke up to my renewed feelings of disappointment. 

I’ve also been interested in a guy who just isn’t interested in me.  But he seemed to represent all that I’ve wanted to find in a guy.  But last night was stake conference, the night session.  He wasn’t there.  My guy would have been there.  I am disappointed that he doesn’t represent all that I’ve wanted any more.  The crush is shattered.

In the mornings I feel things so much more deeply.  I feel disappointed and it has all come to a head – the book, the debate, the date, the crush. 

I think I choose to go along with Teddy. 

The fact of the matter is that there is a very shiny side to disappointment.  There was an amazing love.  And even though it is gone, it did make me human.  He did love me and I did love him.  I met his wife last year.  She pulled me aside and told me how close I am to his heart.  How he kept all of my letters.  How he respects me so very much.  The fact of the matter is, the love is part of both of us, and always will be even though our life paths were never destined to intertwine permanently.  The truth of the matter is, I had a great time dancing last week.  I really did.  I’m disappointed because I did enjoy it so much.  Nothing will likely ever come of my crush – but you know what - he has still made new acquaintances, found a new place to live, and generally been noticed in a place that otherwise might have simply ignored him – because I noticed, and I cared.  I wouldn’t have even known who Seward, Bates and Chase were had they never run for office.  And you know what - even though they didn’t win, I have still been inspired and uplifted by the people that they were.  They were all fine, honorable people who I would have been honored to know.  Their lives, the way they each fought slavery, and their dedicated service to the Union have blessed my life.

Without caring, there would be no disappointment.  I chose, although somewhat trepidatiously, to care.  And I’ll take the disappointment that comes with it.