November 16, 2005 (On Hope)

February 13, 2008 at 4:04 am Leave a comment

November 16, 2005

There’s an apricot tree I have in a bucket in the backyard. When I got the house, it was pretty and lovely, and I managed to have one luscious apricot from it before a, well, “friend” chopped it down. After time, a sprout came up from down the stump somewhere, and I was sort of surprised, and thought I’d take better care of it to see what came of it. It continued to somewhat grow, but when Russ and I decided to build the shed in the spot that it lived, we dug it up, tossed it on a sandy mound and figured it wouldn’t ever come of much of anything, anyway. In the spring, lying there on its side with roots exposed, it had flowers. We got excited, put it in a pot, and started planning for a garden. Russ loves that little tree. The tree shows endurance, vitality in adversity, and hope.

I know that analogies can seem trite, but they make sense. We pull them out so often in life. I keep thinking about those birthday candles that would drive us to the point of frustration as we initially smiled, blowing them out, and they wouldn’t blow out, just wouldn’t blow out, and everybody would laugh, the wax would go all over the cake.

I was showing my students my little sketchbook that I carry with me in my pack. I hadn’t looked at it in quite a while. I have drawings of Russ, relaxed, plump, serene. I have a cartoon sort of thing of our life together; the Baja trips, the dogs, the kayaking, the morning lattes…and the knots build up inside of me.

Hope…we get up in the morning and immediately we have hope. Hope is stronger than muscle, stronger than statistics, stronger than herbs, stronger than medicine. Do we let go of hope? I don’t think so; I think the big challenge is to reconfigure hope…something like the Eskimos that have 80 or so words for snow, we need to develop 80 or so ways of understanding hope. I guess that goes along with the “Serenity Prayer.” I have a wallet-sized version of it I carry with me, one that my niece gave me that has a cute picture of a polar bear cub on the back. I really do say it and say it, trying to really absorb the cycle of life      and it’s hard…

I saw the moon yesterday morning; big and full and orange, reflecting over the water, dancing its color as it does so often for me for all those times I’ve spoken to it. I know life and nature isn’t trying to tease me, or test me or even provide me with answers; it just IS, and I guess I have to love it for that.

I think that’s all I want to say for now.


Entry filed under: death, dying and grief.

First Post for Death, Dying and Grief Clarity is not Crystal

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