Hope really does spring eternally. It seems that no matter what happens, hope squeezes itself into my psyche, pushing aside the thoughts of doubt and insecurity and uneasiness. Experiences in our lives leave us counting on our hope to get us through those low times, when everything seems opposite of what we had wanted, planned for, hoped for!
Obviously to me, we had to have had situations happen to us that showed hope could be a good friend, especially in times of great turmoil. What would some of those experiences be?
In our youth, we may have cut ourselves badly on the knife we were never supposed to touch. A huge opening in our skin revealed our bone. This would never go away. Or so we thought. We "hoped" it would heal and stop burning all the time. It did. Hope springs eternal.
When my grandmother died, I never thought the hurt would subside. I had spent over twenty-three years living on the other side of her duplex, and we were very close. I had even stayed with her for a year or so, keeping her company. I hoped this empty feeling would go away, and the aching would stop in my heart. It did. Hope springs eternal.
I worked at many jobs I did not like, before marrying and staying home with my kids. When I worked at Shop-Rite, I couldn’t take the usually unpleasant attitudes of the customers, and the bagging, and the standing on my feet for eight hours. I hated it. I hoped to get a better job. It took a while, but a dental assistant job came up, and I took it. Now, I was sitting down for eight hours. But somehow, I still wasn't happy. I hoped I could find something else, once again. I heard about the civil service test and took it, passed, and got a great paying job in a post office, at twenty-one.
I loved being inside, selling stamps, talking to the customers, sorting mail, but I hated delivering mail. This I had to do when one of the mail carriers called in sick, which of course was when it rained, or snowed, or was a hundred degrees. I had one walking route I had to do, and as I walked, I dreamed of someday not having to do this anymore. I hoped something else would come up that I would enjoy more than dogs chasing me, and one man flashing me as I attempted to put the mail in the door lot. I met someone, hope springs eternal.
I wanted a nice home, but my husband had taken his grandmother’s house off his father’s hands. It was about to be condemned. Does that tell you anything about the condition? For three years I fixed up the inside, while he worked on the out. No amount of scrubbing would get the rust stains out of the toilet, tub, or sink. We lived behind a busy part of Rt. 22, and cars would use our street as a shortcut, so there was always traffic. I dreamed of someday having a newer home where you didn’t have to walk over the hot heating grate, to get to the kitchen and bedrooms. Three years and we had enough equity to buy a brand new house. My dream house. Two acres on a twelve-acre lake, owned by the owners of the homes around it, colonial style like I wanted. Everything new, untouched, unlived in, a new baby boy, a two year old daughter, a husband I no longer got along with, but was gone for two weeks every month, hope springs eternal.
Now, all the years of hoping had come true. I was doing what I was created to do, be a mom, and take care of a home. I enjoyed each day with my kids, and have thousands of pictures. Once I stop being so overwhelmed by the huge container of pictures I have in the corner of the dining room, put there to remind me!, I am going to make a box for each one of them. Hope springs eternal.
The years have gone by just as quickly as everyone says. Now, my cherubs are sixteen, almost twenty, and almost twenty-two, and thankfully, they’re all still home. And with the prices of rent and gas and food and cars and insurance and clothes, and sneakers, and cell phones, they may be here for quite some time!
I love it. I enjoy seeing them, touching base, meeting and talking with their friends, and grabbing a hug every day, amidst their resistance. My son will be twenty in July, goes to Lincoln Tech for Electronic Engineering, and plays the guitar. I love hearing the music that my child's fingers methodically play. He taught himself, and he’s very good. He even learned a couple of songs I liked in the seventies! There’s nothing like Stairway To Heaven. Except to hear my son playing it! Hope springs eternal.
My daughter has been lost inside herself for years, but is finally learning who she is, and what she wants. She’s been quite confused having to listen to her father’s concepts about life and love, but she’s old enough now to make up her own mind. She isn’t his clone anymore. She has nice friends, a nice boyfriend, a job she loves for now, and she wants to go into the police academy next year. Hopefully, like her want for the past year to go into the army, she will change her mind about this also. If not, I will support her explicitly, and be very proud of her. My brother is a Sergeant in the police force, I wonder if it’s passed down in the genes? I think with her new job, her new boyfriend, and living amongst her family, she’ll do just fine. Hope springs eternal.
My youngest is a sophomore, and hates school, but suffers through, just barely passing. I have no clue what he will do after graduation, but I know it won’t be college. Maybe a Tech school for something. His biggest interest is his computer, and screaming, I mean, singing into a microphone. He’s been caught in the middle of this divorce, unfortunately, but my partner and I are trying to help him through it the best we know how. He seems to be happier. They went down to the lake a couple of days ago, and my boyfriend taught my son how to maneuver the boat, and the electric motor, and he said he had a great experience. They saw a lot of huge bass, and fish eggs hatching and swimming away. He had a big smile on his face, and I’m sure he was proud of himself. Hope springs eternal.
I have been mentally preparing for this divorce for years, even being separated for 17 of the 23 we’ve been married. Staying together for the kids and health insurance is understandable, but I wouldn’t do it that way again. A clean break at a young age would have been easier on all my kids hearts and souls, and what they have to think about. But, that’s hindsight for you.
Now, I work on myself. Being a better "me." I need to stay strong, and get through this divorce for my kids, my partner, and me. We need to feel safe and secure and get on with our lives.
I want to have french doors put in my bedroom, with a big deck, so I can sit and look out over the lake. It’s so peaceful and soothing. A nice table and chairs, coffee on the deck, romantic dinners with my partner. Yes, I have much to look forward to. Hope springs eternal!
Susan Thom is the mother of three children, two sons, 18 and 22, and a daughter 24. Writing calms her, and gives her a place to go by herself! Clears the head and gets it out. She lives in a rural area, with a lake and mountains, and her partner, and has loved writing since she was a child.
She certainly hopes you enjoy her take on life, and her style of communicating that in stories.
She has been on a journey of self discovery for twenty years, and has learned many things about the human mind, and how to maintain some semblance of calm and peace within.
If someone reads one of her stories, and relates to her feelings, and maybe gets a suggestion on how she dealt with them in a positive way, that would be the ultimate gift of her writing.
» left by David Tanguay (2 years 160 days ago.)
Susan where is this Rt. 22 you refer to in your article? I'm originally from Maine and there is a Rt. 22 in that area. Respond to this comment
» left by David Tanguay (2 years 160 days ago.)
Susan, did you get my email explaining how to insert pictures? Respond to this comment
» left by Edwina Frazier(58) Edwina Frazier (1 year 250 days ago.)
Now this is more like it! I can honestly say I enjoyed this article. I actually visualized you in the ShopRite doggedly bagging those groceries. I could see you sitting - bored to death - in the dentist's office. I could also see you trudging along in the heat of the sun delivering that mail. When you create a picture for your reader, you pull them into your story where they can live, breathe, cry, scream and feel frustrated or happy with you. You did that in this article. Respond to this comment
» left by Anonymous (1 year 250 days ago.)
thank you Edwina,
now, we only have over 400 stories
left to go through:)
best regards,
sue Respond to this comment
Was this article helpful to you? Leave a Public Comment or Question:
Disclaimer: All information on this site is provided for informational purposes only! By no means is any
information presented herein intended to substitute for the advice provided to you by any health care or other professional
or organization.
tweet this!
