Hopelessly Hopeful

A couple of days ago I watched "The Shawshank Redemption" for about the hundredth time. I was struck by something that Andy said after spending a week in the hole:

"There are places in the world that aren't made of stone. There's something inside that they can't get touch, its yours. Hope"

I have said before that I am hopelessly hopeful. There were times that dreaming about what I wanted to happen and how great my life was going to be were all that sustained me. I never ever have given up hope. It may have wavered from time to time but it has never left my side. I'm not some Pollyanna that thinks that everything is always going to work out, that people are always good, and that nothing is going to be difficult. My hope is more that I can get through anything that I am handed.

My childhood memories come to me in mere flashes like photos in front of my eyes. I cannot recall whole memories very well. I will not condemn my mother for how she handled my raising. She did the best that she knew how to do with a daughter who was so undeniably lost and out of control. I am sure she counted on my father for assistance with me as he and I were so much alike, spoke our own language, and she struggled with understanding daughters. (For those who may not know, my father was severely brain damaged in a motorcycle accident when I was 6) Whenever my mom would fly into a rage or go too far with her criticism I would retreat into my mind and dream about a different life.

In my marriage I stayed lost in the daily tasks that presented themselves. Marriage was in no way what I had expected. I knew it would be hard. I had expected that much. But I was ill prepared for the lack of love and affection I found there. The hope of sudden improvement is what made it livable. Through all the yelling, fighting, insult hurling, and bad behavior I wished against all odds that one morning The Right Wing King would wake up and know how to love me. That he would suddenly understand how much I loved him and how desperate I was for his love and approval. Sadly that relationship ended in a pretty brutal divorce.

Hope is my crutch. Is that even possible? Is my looking forward a bad thing? Am I holding out for the unattainable? I'm not even sure. I do know that now that I am in charge of my own life and its direction that I will not settle for less than what I spent so much of my life hoping for.