In celebration of the release of her new book, The Most Beautiful Thing, I am participating in author Fiona Robyn’s The Most Beautiful Thing blogsplash. The blogsplash is being hosted at Fiona and her husband Kaspa’s community writing site, Writing Our Way Home.
My Most Beautiful Thing
It’s not been an easy thing deciding what I should write about as my most beautiful thing. I could write about how being in nature brings me closer to God, or I’ve learned so much from witnessing my parent’s relationship. Instead, I will write about what has been hovering around the edge of my thoughts since I first decided to participate in Fiona’s blogsplash. It is what paved the way for the blessings I received in my husband and son. I write today of the gift of hope.
Some say I take after my mother with her optimistic attitude and wanting to believe the good in people and situations, and I guess they would be right. Even in times of great sadness and thoughts of giving up, something deep inside would lift me up just enough not to let that happen. I believe that something is hope. I have said that hope is a gift, and I believe it truly is, because there are some who don’t believe in it. They haven’t accepted the gift.
Hope is what brought me through those young adult years of yearning for that one special person to fill my life up with love and happiness, while I was addicted to bad boys and men who weren’t emotionally available. I would pray, “Lord, please, please bring someone into my life who will love me just for me.” I would plead and bargain and try my best to be sincere until one day, I turned that prayer around. I said, “Lord, please bring someone into my life that I can love. Someone I can give this bounty of love that threatens to consume me.”
My son was born some 18 months later. I in no way planned this happy event but believe it was an answer to my prayer.
Life as a single mother working full time and raising a child with special needs was not easy. In fact, it was downright stressful. When my son was first diagnosed with Aspergers and Tourettes, I didn’t have time to grieve the loss of my dreams for him, I just had to carry on. What hope brought me was a realization that I could still have dreams for my son; they would just be different dreams.
While social services existed when my son was young, there were not nearly as many as there are now, and they were usually located too far away or he did not qualify for them as my income was too high, which really, is quite scoffable. So, hope sustained me through those moments of utter exhaustion and frustration when his perseveration and my lack of sleep drove me to tears and there was nowhere to turn.
My good friend hope would flood my heart when my son’s mood would lighten and he’d surprise me with humor. It is one of his greatest gifts. We can get kind of wacky at times and it was probably a good thing no one else could witness our silliness!
Except one day, hope surprised me again when she introduced me to a man who could be just as wacky.
The story of how I met my husband could be turned into a Lifetime movie but I’ll share that another time. Let’s just say I no longer had those expectations of finding my soul mate. So, when my husband and I met, and that comfort, desire, and special feeling like we’d truly connected was there from day one, hope sprung alive once again.
We had our share of obstacles. He lived in another state and is 11+ years younger than me. Could I trust him and would he commit to helping me raise my son? He had no children and mine had special needs. He would need to leave his family and all he had known behind to be with us. Was this what he wanted for his life? Could we make this work? Hope was on our side. We’ve been together ten years and pray for many more.
I want to thank my mother, God, and anyone else who might have planted the seed of eternal hope inside of me. Some may say I’m silly to be optimistic or to hope for the impossible. I say, hope is a gift I humbly receive, that we all can receive, and it is my most beautiful thing.