And just before we shut the door on last year, we noticed that there was still hope sitting there, waiting for us to ask it to dance…
Hope hangs in there, through the worst of times.
For the longest time I thought cancer was the worst thing. It took people you loved.
Then I thought that human trafficking was the worst. It took innocent people and bought and sold them like they didn’t matter.
Then I thought that divorce was really the worst thing. It took your promises of love and hopes for the future and stomped on them pretty hard.
Then I thought that someone taking their own life was the most worst thing. It was unexpected and devastating in a way nothing else had been, and there were no answers to all of the questions.
There are so many worst-ish things, and it can feel overwhelming: all forms of domestic violence, the far-reaching effects of systemic racism, people not protecting each other from the pandemic, not being able to comfort each other when the worst things happen.
We need to hold onto hope. We need to take it by the hand, lead it to the dance floor, twirl it around and do-si-do with it. We need to do the Hokey-Pokey with it. We need to dance, and dream. We will get through, get beyond, get better. We will win that dance competition at the end of the summer if we keep practicing those moves.
We need to keep trying.
Be kind, be smart, be brave. Never take hugs for granted.
The next post will be less weighty. I just needed to get these thoughts out.