Having Hope
I recently started reading Jane Goodall’s new book “The Book of Hope — A Survival Guide for Trying Times.” Although written before the war in Ukraine, the timing of it is perfect given the brutal inhumanity we are witnessing on our TVs, phones, newspapers and other means of collecting news. Ukrainians are getting slaughtered and their beautiful country is getting destroyed by a maniac for no reason other than his insane ego and well, his insanity. We keep hearing that we are trying to stay out of World War III but I don’t understand how we aren’t already in it or heading towards it with no brakes to push. Also, I need a second mortgage to fill up my car with gas and buy my favorite food, avocados, and all we hear is it is going to get worse.
I need hope.
I have Ukrainian blood flowing in my veins from my mother’s side and grew up hearing stories of what I’m seeing on TV. My mother and my aunt were those children we see crying, holding onto a teddy bear and wondering where their father is. My heart hurts for my mother and aunt on a whole new level as I see live on TV what they went through — perhaps because the reality I see on TV is much much worse than what I ever imagined for them.
I need hope.
Yesterday, we received tragic news about elderly neighbors who we won’t be seeing anymore except for in our fond memories. Out of respect for them, I don’t want to discuss the details but the news left me shattered and numb. She was a doll and he was the king of curmudgeons if ever there was one. They preferred to keep to themselves and turned down numerous invitations for dinner or a get-together. But forever more, I’ll be asking myself if I could or should have done more to interject myself into their lives.
I need hope.
Overpaid and over-egoed celebrities are stealing the news because of an on-stage temper tantrum during a live awards show broadcast. Talking heads are taking the time to discuss and dissect the event as if it were an international disaster when it was just an act of violence which should never have been condoned, e.g. don’t give the guy an Oscar and a standing ovation 30 minutes later. What more is there to discuss? Even Alec Baldwin — the guy who shot and killed a woman but somehow didn’t pull the trigger of the gun he was holding? — had to weigh in on it. I want to say “who cares” but we should care because there was preferential treatment extended and the line in the sand between what’s right and what’s wrong and for whom got washed away just a little bit more that night.
I need hope.
In the opening pages of her book, Jane writes “Hope is contagious. Your actions will inspire others. It is my sincere desire that this book will help you find solace in a time of anguish, direction in a time of uncertainty, courage in a time of fear.”
Today, March 30, while I feel anguish, uncertainty and fear, I can offer myself and perhaps others one sliver of hope in that I was diagnosed with cancer 18 years ago today and am alive to write about it. I survived cancer and while so many I know and loved and so many of those loved by people reading this did not, one person did. Perhaps that will bring hope to someone just diagnosed or someone battling the disease now. Someone who needs hope.
One person at least got through the cauldron of fire that is a cancer diagnosis and if they did, maybe you or your loved one will too.
Have hope. At least for today.
I know I do.
~ Dedicated in loving memory to my beloved grandmother who held hope in her heart that she would make it to America with her two young daughters in tow to live a better life, ultimately without her husband at her side who died at the hands of Stalin.
