The emotional lifeline of Hope
From the start of Monday, the week has been frought with bad news. All sorts. Job loss. Friends losing homes. A divorce. It’s not a surprise to hear the words of despair, the temporary absence of optimism, of hope that the situation will improve.
Hope is an emotional lifeline. When I told Rog I intended to write about it, he says “No, what right do you have to pontificate to others?”
“Who better to write on hope that me?” It was then I reminded him it was I who’d experienced divorce, single parenting, bankruptcy, foreclosure, the freezing of my assets and an expanding arse to boot. He krinkled his face when I recalled it was my hope we’d have children someday, which was a mantra I chanted for seven years as he maintained he’d rather get divorced than bring a child into a dark, hate-filled world. Until one day, he woke up and essentially said ‘we might bring a child that will make the world a better place.’
Nobody who hasn’t been a part of my life has any clue that it was the hope in dark times that allowed me to endure to reach the point I am at today, which to the outside, is perfect. For years, it wasn’t perfect. It was hard. Lonely. Loveless and it was my foundation.
“Ok,” he mumbled as he walked in to the office. “Write it. Just don’t be sappy.”
I make no such promise.
Hope is found when a stranger smiles at you on the walk home.
Hope is given to a foster child turns 18, and a business owner takes a chance and gives a job.
Hope is what remains inside a woman, long after her man has walked out the door.
Hope is rewarded when a new man appears, one far better and more deserving then the one who left.
Hope is felt when a mother tells her daughter her son will one day return.
Hope is rewarded when the daughter broke it off, right before saying “I do.”
Hope is renewed when the son goes to college on his own accord.
Hope is a person wronged will forgive, and a friendship will be regained.
Hope is the crowd will cheer, not boo.
Hope is going on again the next night, no matter what happened the evening before.
Hope is the light in a newborns eye.
Hope is the enemy of despair.
Hope sees me through the tears and heartaches.
Hope is within, ever present.
Hope is life.
And yeah, this got a little sappy at the end. It couldn’t be helped.