This month of posting has stretched me. A Lot. Which I've said previously, so I won't harp on it. After this post goes up I will have 3 more posts and be able to proudly say I blogged every single day for an entire month about Hope. That sounds kind of impressive. The novelist in me doesn't think it sounds as impressive as "I completed a 55,725 word novel in 30 days, less than 30 actually." But, opinions, beholders etc.
Tonite, hope takes the form of knowing there is an end in sight. I won't be letting anyone down if I don't post anything next Tuesday night. I won't be adding yet another thing to my lengthy list of things I never bothered to finish (like my last novel currently is). I can see the end. I can see the rewards. I've gotten encouragements. I know this will not last forever. Yes, I realize this may sound quite dramatic and woe-is-me. Yes, that sentiment would be an exaggeration for this actual situation.
But in real life, there are a lot of situations in which we lose our hope because we don't see the end. We don't see things being any different in a month or 3 months or a year. It is hard to keep hoping for our heart's desire when we can't see any form of fulfillment in our near future. Especially when we see those around us getting their heart's desires and sometimes their own version of exactly the thing you desire. It is hard to watch yet another friend, younger than you, get married and you have had exactly 1 date* in 7+ years. It is hard to go home to an apartment, no matter how lovely, after leaving a friend's beautiful home. It is hard to listen to someone talk about how easy it was for them to lose baby weight when you can't seem to pry off even a few ounces of cupcake weight.
Much more importantly, it is hard to have hope when a loved one battles for their very life. Intentionally putting poison in their body that makes them violently ill in the hopes that the poison will only kill the thing inside of them. It is hard to have hope when you truly have not met any decent, single, available guys within a reasonable age range in years. It is hard to have hope when you carry something around inside of you that can be managed but not cured. When there is no cure on the horizon. When those around you don't even know that you have this thing because it is managed so well your symptoms are nearly imperceptible. It's hard to live that for very long and keep hope.
I think I can count another blessing in the timing of my Dad's death. I have struggled to keep hope alive probably for as long as I've struggled against depression. I will count it a blessing that I, we, didn't have to wait for test results to see if it was working. We didn't have to try another round of this cocktail or that combination and start waiting for test results again. I tried to have hope in the few weeks that we had. I'm not sure I was all that successful. I can hope that the next wedding will be easier. I can hope that next Father's Day will sting less. But I don't know how long I could have continued to hope if we would have had to fight for very long. I don't know how long I could hope if I got a diagnosis of something chronic and/or incurable.
But Tonite? Tonite I can have hope because I only have 3 more posts and then begins my noveling adventure. I think I'm going to name her Constance. Constance Marie or possibly Constance Naomi. We'll see what she has to say next week.
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