…some thoughts.

saw this poem on FB tonight. Esperanza posted it. And I read excerpts of it in the Dean Koontz Frankenstein novels last week –  which is why it stuck with me.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

Emily Dickenson.

Hope. Such a fragile thing. And at the same time, the mightiest emotion you will ever have. It keeps you going, even when things are rough. It makes you get up every morning, because maybe, just maybe, today will be the day it all changes. It does not let you give up on your life, yourself, your kids, your situation. It’s always there, fluttering, sometimes with big flaps, sometimes very hidden, but always there.

I’ve lived a long time with only a glimmer of hope in my heart. Will I ever again find a job? will I ever find somebody that can show me how it is to love and be loved? Will my kids ever make it on their own?

While everything is not quite as perfect as we would all want it to be, I have never had more reason to hope. My children are out in the wide world – one is doing fine, the other one is still struggling a bit, but I have faith that he will also make it one way or the other. I may or may not have a job at the end of March – yet again starting the vicious circle of not getting interviews, getting more and more dejected about the whole thing. I’ve made a decision not to even start that cycle again. If I don’t have a job at this particular place for the forseeable future, I will sell up and move. I don’t have kids at school anymore, there’s not a single thing holding me here other than my plants and they can all be transplanted. I will get myself a big enough property, a place to spread out. A place where I will be able to make space for my mom and my aunt. A place closer to the person that’s daily becoming a bigger part of my life than I ever thought possible.

And now for the gushing part of the post.

We spent the weekend together. We went for a massage at a spa. A nursery where we had lunch and I got a whole bunch of “green things” as C puts it. Not once did he negate any choice I made. Not once did he steer me away from what he thought of as so much rubbish. He walked with me, showed me things he finds interesting, pushed the trolley. Then we went to a shop to get stuff for the braai we invited the mom and sister to later the afternoon. We walked and browsed and talked – it was a lovely day out. We were together, and each was so attuned to the other that there was just no bumping of heads about anything. We’re experiencing life through the other person’s eyes.

Our first entertainment as a couple went off without a hitch. We worked as a team to make sure that everybody was looked after and sorted out. And when the people left, we sat outside, looking deep into the fire, talking about everything and nothing, hashing out our lives. Just sitting outside, next to one another, holding hands. We made more coffee and sat talking some more. It’s what we do. Every waking minute is spent getting to know what makes the other one tick. Every doubt I have, he allays with his words. Every negation I make to myself, he turns around with his actions. Be it a kiss on the forehead, a hug, a hand stretched out to me. “I adore you” “You are the most precious soul” You have made my life complete”.

I remembered a day, years past, when we sat at that exact same braai, one those exact same chairs, looking into a fire, talking late into the night. Even then, our souls found solace in each other’s company. Even then, though neither of us knew it, we were working on the moments we are sharing now. Every time I have to leave him, or ha has to leave me, it’s a wrench. I resent the fact that we live so far apart. That we only see each other on weekends. But, I suppose, it’s all part of the greater scheme of things.

Of course I do things that irk him. It’s what I do. I try and minimise it to the minimum, but even when I irk him, it’s not an all out fight. It’s a bit of quiet, and the moment passes. With each of these little episodes, I know more, I am able to judge his reactions better. I’m sure to fail at some things, succeed in others. I’m completely in awe of this person that’s chosen to love me for who I am. this person that knows who I am, and still loves me regardless. That’s knows most of my past, and accepts it as is. The person that offers me chocolate when I get cranky 🙂 That calls me Babe and Angel and My lady.

Ok. Enough gushing. We had a wonderful weekend, and Hope’s faithful feathered being is still ever present in my life – it has even kept me going, and in seeing that perseverance pay off, has just re-iterated the need for hope in all things. It’s the only thing that will get you through the bad times, and let you appreciate the good times.

On to something else – you might be happy to know that my perseverance regarding getting young Ben to sit on command is becoming more fruitful by the minute. When I get home in the evenings and I get out to greet them, he sits. When he gets his daily Beeno for a treat, he sits on command. Now I must just teach him some patience and the world would be as close to perfect as it can be.

That being said. I’m astonished by all that’s happened. I’m apprehensive as to the future – not overly so, but still. There are many firsts that we still need to forge, many rivers we will need to cross, many bridges we need to climb, but so far, we’ve surmounted every obstacle with grace and fortitude.

I hope your weekend was a restful one.

Long days and pleasant nights…




9 comments on “Hope…

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