Hope

 Some days I just can't keep myself from falling into the pit of self pity. I feel myself falling into that place, where no amount of distraction can keep me from falling.  The tears come, and the retching sobbing follows. I hate the sound of my crying. I don't have a soft and pretty sounding sob. It's not quite a wail. It's more like the sound of a a pig in pain. My nose will run, and that too is not a lovely sight. I will look a mess and sound a mess. While wallowing in this pool, I find myself not so much counting the used to be's. I'm not making a list of the things that I miss. No that's the old school self pity. I have out grown that and graduated to a new level beyond the used to be's to a level of realizing what will never be.
Most of it results from watching TV advertisements. The advertising and marketing experts have a way of making you want things. For me, it's just the realization that I will never again need to acquire these things. I will never again get a new car. I will never go to Payless shoe store and get a new pair of shoes. I will never go to Kohls or JCPenney to buy a new outfit. I will never need to buy new make up. I will never go on a cruise or buy new furniture. I will never paint the walls in my house or buy new knickknacks to scatter among my stuff. I will never buy new curtains, sheets, carpets, towels, dishes or appliances. I will never cook or bake or use a swiffer or Bounty paper towels to clean up every day messes. I'll never take a run through the woods. It hurts to think about how I will never play games with my grandchildren. I just sort of live this life in limbo. And I look at the characters on the TV shows that I watch. I will never be the beautiful wife. Always on the outside looking in. A fly on the wall who sees all.

Sometimes it is nice to be a fly on the wall. I can almost see what life will be like when I am gone. Chris and Michelle will have nice chats in the kitchen, and Chris and Alex will play with their "man toys" in the basement. Life goes on. I am stuck in this bed.
I often wonder why am I still here? And I've asked a few people that question and one responder said it is because I still have hope. So it got me to thinking just what exactly is hope? I asked a friend and she said hope is that you are hoping you are living this life that you are given in a good way. This lot in life that I've been given I should live graciously. I try to do be gracious and thankful for those people who are around me who help me every day. I try not to complain or be demanding. So for that I am hopeful that I can continue to be relatively cheery.
Another friend answered the question of hope as it pertains to being optimistic. Like, you hope everything goes well along the way. Even if the situation seems to be futile and the results unsure, you can only hope that you will see some bright spots in it all and everything will work out in the end. Like, if you're running late for an appointment, and you are hopeful that you are not going to get stuck in traffic, and it all works out in the end, and you are not late for the appointment.
And then of course there is the kind of hope where you hope you leave the world a better place just by having been  in it. You hope you have taught your children well, and they will remember everything you taught them.

The flow of tears have subsided. The emotional upheaval has passed. For now, I have climbed to the shallow end of the pity pool. The exercise of writing has fulfilled its obligation of catharsis. So here I am still safe and comfortable in my shalom babayit.