Hope Shmope

A few drama free years would be great. However, I’m not going to invest too much energy hoping for that. I used to hold hope very dear, but I’m less effusive about it now. In fact, I distrust it because ‘hoping’ has, at times, set me up for a fall.

That’s not to say that I won’t hope for Abi’s health and happiness. That I won’t hope that she will, one day, be free of her disease. Or that I won’t hope for some miraculous cure for brain tumours. But what I won’t do is pin everything on hope. Abi’s illness has had many highs and lows and the safe approach is to try and even out those bumps through acceptance. For every peak, there’s bound to be a trough. Therefore, it’s better to be present, rather than look forward in hope, or back in anger.

I suppose you could argue that my distrust of ‘hope’ is a shame because it has come about through bitter experience. But I would claim that I am taking the pragmatic approach. My ‘being present’ is the strategy that will help me cope with whatever lies ahead for Abi.