I hear the word: hope. I say the word: hope. Do we understand what it is and do we want to accept what it truly is?
A diagnosis of cancer, the fear the desperation overcomes us; where do we find logic in it; know how to open our eyes the next day and every day thereafter. HOPE it comes seeps in and we move to the next day. It is that we hope the next day will bring us closer to eliminating the fear, the disease. Hope equates cure. We put this into our heads but who gave it to us, packaged this way? Do we question it; certainly we do not, we eagerly accept the packaging of HOPE, we want it to be as they told us. Hope equates to a cure.
Simple, we gain hope, and we are cured. The treatment is said to have hope, treatments in our minds equates to cure. The doctors said not to worry, leave it all to them, Have hope they said, take it and go home, not to worry, hope is at work.
There are what-if’s; so many of them; soon we face them. Treatments that lack advancement in the fight against whatever cancer you face; not to worry, hope is here, another treatment awaits. What if another treatment fails, do we continue to reach out grab hold of hope. As the treatments fail and the cancer spreads, hope begins to weaken. Where is hope now?
Doctors move their eyes away from you, never directly looking you straight into your eyes; their words continue, extenuating here and there with hope. You pick up on the subtleness but what you are confused; the fear accelerating, the desperation rising as perspiration appears. “Everything that could be done has been done”, did you hear it or where you already running in a field, catching rainbows, reliving your life in split second bursts. “We can try another treatment, better than not doing anything”, you hear that last ditch effort, or is it; is this new treatment only palliative, just going to give me a false sense of hope?
You look around and try to discover where is hope hiding. The doctors gave you that package of hope early on, the first meeting you recall and now where is it; did you use it all up or did you lose it, lost somewhere between one chemo treatment or another, dropped it somewhere off a radiation table; in desperation you search but cannot find the hope the doctors gave you. What do you do?
Look closer to your heart, and there hidden behind all the fears and all the desperation, hope sits. It rises up and comes to you, in wonderment you watch it come closer and see the light around it. A peace comes over you, realizing the hope given to you, the packaged hope was nothing more than the word. Hope is not packaged, it does not equal anything but itself, the peace, the serenity it gives; hope is beautiful. Washing over you, the fear leaves you, concern of treatment remains. desperation leaves you, God says he will pick up the worrying.
God takes you on a walk, says he will show you hope; and you walk with him and you talk with him. You see all the things you have seen a thousand times, this time you recognize them and wonder why you missed it. That garden you planted, you never looked closely to see the beauty you truly created with hope, and it brings you joy, the accomplishment of your hope for success. Again and again, God shows you where hope was put, the accomplishment of the hope brings you joy, not only your hope but others hope, all the accomplishments of hope bring you and everyone around you joy. How is it that you missed it? God has turned your hope to joy and you are excited about seeing the next day, discovering something new and enjoying it.
A day of wonder for you, a day of sadness for those around you; today is the day people will say your life stopped. Whatever we believe, how ever we believe allows us to react to the event; for you the mystery is over, you discover the life on the other side; the here after becomes you here now. And do we now assume that your life was hopeless, without hope or do we hope those that we leave will discover and accept that hope does not equal a cure, that hope is an empty word, just a word; but will they accept the true hope; where you hope for all things possible and discover within the possibilities joy of the living experience? Will they know the peace and serenity hope gives; you hope they do. And you want so much for them to know as they saw you go, you appeared elsewhere; and along with you hope came. Hope transcends. And you are filled with joy. ,
January 20th, five months; makes me think of time, what relationship do we have to time; is time relative to our existence or merely a time table for us to compare events? I cannot say five months is long or short, it is when I looked at the measurement of when an event occurred. I believe the event makes me either think it short or long.
We measure our lives by timeframes, birthdays, anniversaries; all measured by time, One month passes, one year passes and we measure it. We jubilee, excited for the passing, we celebrate. It is then we study the years and bring sadness to ourselves, mourning the passing of time, giving it a life of its own, We criticize time, tell it to go away, one year older, time is making us old, Yet time is not making us old, it is ourselves the perception we have in the relationship of time that makes us age. Do we feel different or feel the change and answer ourselves a complete negative; why then do we believe ourselves and blame time. Who we are is relative to the passing of time.
Our days and years with the ones we love, the measurement of time from one event to another, from when we worked or went to school, where we lived from time to time; all measured, all calculated, making us wonder where we stand in the scheme of things. Yet, it is our place, where we choose to put ourselves, if we are in the here and now, that is our place and no other. The distance between on event or another, between when we were in one place and now stand here, it is all relative to how we perceive our time.
Does time move fast or slow; such a question is posed to us; the answer is neither, Time just is just a measurement and is nothing more, time is not, it is has being. The universe measures nothing, it happens, the existence of one thing to the existence of another, there is no time, just eternity. We are here, we exist and live, experience the living, then we move to another place in the universe, we are and still will be. Others will see us pass through, enjoy our existence, then mourn our passing but it is only relative to our movement.
January 20th, five months since Jesicha passed from cancer, is it wrong to count or calculate, to measure the time? Perhaps I do for the remembrance, then of course my heart will tell me there is no measurement, such shall never exist for her time of leaving shall be there and what comes after shall never have a measurement; the loss will remain steadfast in time, for eternity it shall stand only the measurement of things. Jesicha came, existed and I loved her, shared with the whole of her existence, then she passed from the here to her new place in the scheme of al things.