“The weather looks………prrrretty good for landing.”
Those were our flight attendant’s words before landing last night on the second portion of our flight from Atlanta to Chattanooga. I found they lacked confidence. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who found his tone to be less than reassuring because the man across the aisle from me let out a small chuckling “huh.”
Everything turned out just fine. We landed with no problem, I made it home to my own bed, and I’m now typing these words. However, the experience reminded me of how much of an impact the delivery of our words can have on other people. We have the ability to offer hope or to crush hope.
Our flight attendant’s slight hesitation last night really didn’t put me at ease as we descended through the cloudy and foggy sky. I closed my eyes and thought about how I might write about the experience the next morning. That is…if we did in fact have a “prrrretty good landing.”
I just spent the last week trying to deliver my words wisely as I conversed with my dad. He wanted me to tell him if I saw any improvement since seeing him a year ago. I told him the hard truth. “No, Dad, I don’t.”
I went on to gently tell him that I know he has only been focusing on Plan A but maybe he needed to start considering a Plan B.
Over the week, the words didn’t sink in the way I was hoping they would. He is not willing to accept that he will be spending the remainder of his days in an assisted living home rather than his own house. I don’t blame him for not wanting to believe this, but my brothers and I don’t see any other affordable solution.
As I said my good-byes to him yesterday morning, he mentioned again that he hoped to be walking by the time I returned for another visit.
“Okay, Dad, I love you.”
Nothing would make me happier than to, one day, eat my words. Nothing would make me rejoice more than to see my dad stand up and walk. And, I would gladly proclaim my mistake from the mountaintops… I was wrong!!