Hold on to hope; a reflection
It was a balmy April evening and I walked out the front entrance of a New Jersey hospital. I felt a frog emerge in my throat as I gripped the car seat in my left hand, and bumped my infant niece on the right hip. I had done a decent job holding up, being strong, not missing a beat at work, and suffering silently as I watch my sister’s body lay lifeless for days on end. As I crossed the street, beaten down by exhaustion I hurried quickly to my car. I could, again, feel the frog in my throat. I put the car seat in the car, buckled my niece in, sat in the front seat and allowed endless tears to fall.
It was just a few months prior that we were celebrating my baby sister’s pregnancy, fighting over the baby shower colors and guest list. Just months prior I was developing a one-man show and planning a commercial run. Just months prior I was planning a spring break trip to Miami Beach. But in this moment I was pulling out of a hospital parking lot, my seven-month-old niece crying, and tears rolling down my eyes.
I pull up to the parking attendant and reach into my wallet for the parking fee: I have no cash. I dig for change and scrap up $3.71; this includes a solid thirty one pennies. I hand the attendant the money and he lets me out assuring me not to worry about the balance. I had reached burnout, and was at the end of my rope. My sister wasn’t healing fast enough for my comfort and all aspects of my own life seemed to be out of my control in that moment.
This day passed, several more after that, and my sister finally started to recover; I even learned to carry my niece and the car seat at the same time. It was by far one of the hardest months of my life. I passed on many gigs and other professional opportunities. There were many of days where I had to stand up and show up when I just wanted to be home. There were many of nights that I just felt like my world was spinning out of control. But, I held on.
Fast forward a few days. My sister was released from the hospital and sent home to rest and recover from her Lupus flare. She is doing better and actively monitoring her health. She has even recently returned to work. And, I got busy taking care of myself and getting back to life as I knew it prior to this episode.
This week, I was reflecting on my upcoming birthday. I thought about the ways in which I have changed since this time last year. As I sat at my desk, in reflection, these words came to me.
HOLD ON TO HOPE.
There were so many times during my sisters illness, so many times during election season, so many times during the past year where I could do nothing but hold on to hope. Things were out of control and there was nothing I could do to conjure, cajole or change the situation. After I had my tantrums, and tried to pull on my contacts, after I spent all my money and prayed until my lips crusted up, I was forced to wait. I was forced to hold onto the promise of a healing, a new story, a better and brighter tomorrow.
I write this essay not to over share, or garner your sympathy. I, and my family are doing alright by the grace of God. But, I write this as a reminder to you. Maybe you’re going through family issues, or personal issues, or health issues, or housing issues and you’ve done all you know to do. You’ve had your tantrums, and tried to pull on your contacts, and spent all your money, and prayed until your lips dried up, and now you’re forced to sit and wait.
I have been there. I don’t know when or if your situation will change. I don’t know when or if you’ll get the part or the job. But, I do know that after you have exhausted all your resources hope is infinite, powerful and the foundation of faith. It is the promise of a brighter tomorrow. It is the song of better days. It is the innocence in a child's eyes. It is a fresh page of a new story.
HOLD ON TO HOPE.
