Hope

I think hope is a feeling that comes from within. We can choose to feel hopeful or we can surrender to hopelessness. What makes the difference? How is it that some people can find a reason to be this way while others simply can’t? Is it our circumstances? Is it the way we were raised? Could it be the amount of hardship one endures that presents the defining hopeful gene?

I wonder about the beauty of this feeling. It can change the way you see the world. I have dug deep for this feeling many times only to discover one simple truth about it. It’s not a magic feeling that falls over you like rain with minimal effort. It’s not something you wait for. Hope is not free, and sadly it seems to come at a price for most.

I have sat in this very spot and felt both extremes. Hope hasn’t always prevailed. I remember the night Mark was given his probable diagnosis of leukemia, we had to wait till the morning for another test to confirm it. The two of us sat here that night, we cried, we talked and we hoped. I remember hoping for a chance that it was all a mistake, I hoped for it so badly that I ached. The following day we returned from the hospital and spent the night lying on this couch. We watched TV just to do something normal but it didn’t mask the reality. Mark’s tests had confirmed our worst fears and he was diagnosed with cancer. The absolute desolate, flat, hopeless feeling from that night is one that has set my barometer for everything else since.

I have felt deep hopelessness since, but in a surprising way my desire to feel hopeful again has grown. Watching Mark slip away has given me a renewed desire to chose hope whenever possible. It doesn’t always come easily, nor has it been an instant transformation, but I do have a cause for optimism about the world that I never had before.

I see the impact Mark has on me mostly when I am faced with a choice. In the past, things used to seem more complicated, defining what was important and what should weigh more heavily wasn’t always so clear. Now, it feels natural to feel hopeful when I can because I know it can change in a heartbeat. What’s important to me now is clear and there’s no guesswork involved.

The amount of energy it takes to feel hopeless is exhausting. When I look at Audrey and Noah, I know that I owe them the effort of making that choice. There’s nothing to be gained from dwelling on the past or worrying about the future so for now, I choose hope because it feels right.