THE BIG LETDOWN

This is the anniversary week of one of the biggest letdowns in my life.

Webster’s dictionary describes letdown as “disappointment, discouragement, unmet expectations.”

Dr. Seuss wrote, “When something bad happens, you have three choices. You can either let it define you, let it destroy you, or you can let it strengthen you.”

Dr. Seuss also wrote, “Don’t cry because it’s over. SMILE because it happened.”

Every kid knows that the author of such classic books as Cat in the Hat and Green Eggs and Ham must be right.

We have all experienced the soul-crushing pain of that last letdown or that worst letdown.

Letdown days can be dreadful. Others can be hopeful. Most lie somewhere in between. A few experiences can be brutal. Some can leave a bitter taste in your mouth as if you started the day sucking lemons.

Today finds me reflecting on a vivid sad memory. It was the day I let my dad down. Of course, I rightfully blame it on my brother, the weakest link in the story. The incident defined Bill and destroyed me. Somehow, it strengthened our dad. The memory does make us all SMILE.

My dad is my hero. I am sure there were many times I let my dad down, but he never showed it. This one day was very different.

I let my dad down, literally. It was unfortunate and unforgettable.

Let me set this up.

I am one of three brothers. Our mom often stated, “Your dad thinks you boys are perfect, but I know better. I birthed you.”

Then the next minutes would be filled with Mom’s critique and instructions for better choices or better grammar in life’s daily grind.

Dad certainly did not think we were perfect. He just acted as if we were. Dad was our coach in life. At some point, he discreetly and imperceptibly changed into our cheerleader. I imagine the heavy load caused Dad’s heart to weaken.

Dad’s perspective of his heart-health and his sons’ perfection was put to the test one day. The memory helps me moan with the worst of the crowd of critics.

I am not sure where I picked up this trait. My mother was not a moaner. She was a coal-miner’s daughter and proud of it. Things could always be worse. So, you do not complain. You just find a way to make things better.

Dad grew up with three brothers under the care and direction of a single, uneducated mom. They were all abandoned by their alcoholic father.

I do not remember Dad moaning…except at the ineptitude of a football official or a basketball referee. I still believe Dad was surprised to find some of them in heaven.

Dad was not a complainer. He most definitely was not a quitter. Whether it was sports, math, or life, Dad studied the situation and found a solution.

I am not sure when I became a Moaner. I always liked to sleep late. I was not born until two minutes past noon. That DNA stayed with me. My prime time is late, late night.

I think my moaning began when my brothers joined the family. Until then, I was king of the court. The family revolved around me.

Sharing can be overrated.

But I share some of this blame with my brother, Bill.

When Dad was diagnosed with heart failure, he was assigned home hospice. That soon became unsatisfactory to Dad. He finally relented to allowing his sons to help him get up each morning and get into bed for the night.

Helen would fix his requested breakfast: Gravy. That’s right…gravy. Every meal. She would ask him if he wanted some biscuits. “No. just gravy.” Maybe some eggs? “No, just gravy.”

Occasionally, Dad would enjoy a chocolate milkshake, smuggled in by one of the brothers.

Dad’s health (increased weight, increased energy, great attitude) during this severe medical prognosis amazed and confounded his cardiologist. Dad survived and thrived on that diet for almost two years.

Apparently new research is needed regarding the healthy-heart benefit of gravy and milkshakes! I have been advocating that for years!

Dad’s weakened condition made it very difficult for him to walk. One of Dad’s former players sent his coach a top-of-the-line wheelchair. It greatly helped Dad maneuver around the house.

There came a day when Dad needed to be transported to the cardiologist. Bill and I helped Dad to the car. We rolled him out onto the porch in his wheelchair. Now came the challenge to navigate the steps.

Bill and I lifted the wheelchair to carry Dad down the stairs of the porch. I picked up the front of the wheelchair while Bill raised it off the porch by the rear handles.

Something went wrong. Terribly wrong. The wheelchair went limp and began to fold up.

We did not know that the modern wheelchairs fold up when lifted. When you lift the wheelchair, it folds into a slender, easy-to-carry item. This allows for quick and easy storage in the back of the transport vehicle. Very clever invention.

However, in this situation, Dad was still in the wheelchair. We lifted. The chair folded.

Dad was squeezed like a bubble about to explode. There was a brief moment of fear that flashed across Dad’s face. He was falling and squeezed at the same time.

The brothers panicked because we were unaware of why the wheelchair was collapsing. We frantically searched for a reset button.

We did our best to protect Dad from falling out onto the steps. We made it to the front yard. We stood there in disbelief with the wheelchair suspended in air.

Dad looked as if he were folded and sealed inside an envelope. At that point, it would have been easier to mail him to the cardiologist office.

When we set our beloved occupant in the folded wheelchair on the ground, the wheelchair remained limp. We could not get it to reset into a steady chair.

We tried to let Dad down gently. His legs and arms were pressed together across his body.

As the wheelchair sides caved in to swallow Dad, he slowly sunk to the ground.

I never heard my dad curse, but this had to be his biggest temptation for bad language. His ‘perfect’ sons let him down, literally. There he was, sitting on the ground, squeezed inside a folded wheelchair.

Bill apologized. I apologized for Bill.

Dad gave that faint smile and told us thanks for the ride.

Dad NEVER used a wheelchair again. NEVER!!!

We gave away the ultra-deluxe wheelchair to our rehab missionary working in Ukraine.

Dad slowly shuffled to the car, then into the doctor’s office. When the physician asked how he was feeling, Dad said he thought his heart must be doing better. He had just survived one of the most terrifying moments in his life.

The Dr. Seuss cardiologist responded with, “Well, at least you can still smile about it.”

It has taken years before Bill and I could smile about the big letdown. Angie’s eyewitness account can be summarized by our Uncle Derwin’s infamous phrase, “I was aghast!”

Circumstances did not define or defeat our dad. If anything, the challenge strengthened his resolve.

PERHAPS SOMEONE LET YOU DOWN PHYSICALLY, EMOTIONALLY, OR RELATIONALLY.

Circumstances do not have to be perfect for you to get through today or this week or any crushing letdowns. You have choices.

Attitude is a choice. A bad attitude is not the result of bad people or bad events. It comes from a bad choice in how you react to those bad people or bad circumstances.

Nothing can hinder or stop you from choosing to count your blessings rather than your bitterness. Nothing can squeeze happiness out of your life.

Tough circumstances can define you, defeat you, or strengthen you. It is your choice.

Here is a go-to verse from God’s Word, Isaiah 41:10: Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be worried, for I am your God. I WILL STRENGTHEN YOU. I WILL HELP YOU AND I WILL NOT DROP YOU.

1 Peter 5:10 reminds us that after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace will pick you up, set you firmly on your feet, and make you stronger than ever.

Dad reminded us of this truth. “People will let you down, but the Lord will never let you down.“

I am thankful we did get to share a few more milkshakes with Dad. I don’t cry over the wheelchair letdown anymore. I just SMILE and give God thanks.

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah —Hallelujah, Leonard Cohen