Hope

You step a little lighter when you have hope.

I am fondly rekindling elements that made great sense, had strength of faith and the fortitude to outlast the dregs of fog I feel we are finally wiping from our view; siphoning from our heads. I watch my son, my children. Their eyes are light, their hearts, though sometimes debilitated by an angry web of anger and confusion, are open.  My son walks with such pride and comfort when he is sure of himself, when he has been reassured that he is doing the right thing. Passing through pictures, I am again taken aback by how quickly time passes when you are not looking; how slowly it goes when you are.

For such a long time, which left as if only a breath, we waited.  We have prayed through many a long night and worried lines onto our faces. Even so - the one answer that we longed for never seemed to come.  In stages, it appeared - wildly rearing its head only long enough to be a reminder to stay the course.  And maybe this road does not end abruptly either, but the efforts of faith have been renewed because we have hope once again.

Grandeur. That is where my contemplating mind circles.  That this story is by no means, over. And just when we thought we had figured out its mastery, we have been humbled to understanding once again, that we are not in charge.

In my eyes of hopeful merriment, I am ever grateful for having been the recipient of a person who partners every hope, prayer and dream that I have.  He, as I, are not presuming to be anything more than our humanity allows, but for this lifetime with me, he is perfect.