Hope is a Funny Word

By Diana McCollum

This month is Thanksgiving. I wanted to recycle this blog as it is appropriate to giving thanks. 

Don't  ever give up. Always hope. I hope for a united country, less homelessness, cures for cancer, and other diseases, no hunger in the world., and an end to war, especially in Ukraine.  Some are lofty wishes/hopes but maybe someday. . .

Hope is a sad word to some, as in “I hope I recover from cancer.” The outcome of treatment is not a guarantee of a cure.

“I hope the tornado does not hit our house.” This is hopefulness the weather does not take a turn towards the house.

Copyright : Olga Lyubkin

We can hope for ourselves, our family, our country or the world. Hope can be felt with confidence, expectation, optimism, anticipation, faith and courage.

At one time or another we have all experienced some form of “Hope”. I know I’ve experienced all of the above various feelings of hope.

I’ve lost hope, too. When my Father was dying from cancer I hoped with all my heart and prayers that by some miracle he would be saved. It wasn’t to be. When I arrived at my parents’ house two days before my Dad expired, I went into the bedroom where he lay on a hospital bed provided by Hospice. He looked like he was sleeping. I knelt down on the floor and brushed his forehead with my fingertips. Dad opened his weary eyes and said, “Di, you’re here.” He closed his eyes, and hope fled from my heart.

Those were the last words my father spoke to me.

I try to be optimistic and look at the bright side of life.  I was hopeful I’d get a book published and I did, along with Sister Sarah and Judith. But along with hope were perseverance, dedication and co-operation to make it happen.

Glacier Park picture by Diana McCollum

I hoped my husband and I could go on a long vacation. We had not been on one in three years, and we did! Visiting Montana, Idaho WA and British Columbia, again, it took planning and confidence and anticipation to pull it off. Husband has severe back problems so we had to plan to only drive 3 to 4 hours a day. I 

had to ask my Sister Sarah to leave her husband and stay with our 89 year old Mom so she wouldn’t be alone while we were gone. I had to withdraw money from my IRA. Everything came together and our hope of a vacation became a reality.

Copyright : Marek Uliasz

So my conclusion on HOPE is you can hope for something all you want, sit back and it may or may not materialize. 

Or you can HOPE for something with confidence, optimism courage, faith and participation. One still may not get what they hope for, but wouldn’t you rather be “doing” than “sitting”?

What do you hope for?

It Might as Well be Spring by Eleri Grace

As we round the corner on another spring, having cycled now fully through all the seasons under pandemic conditions, I'm reminded of the hopeful 1945 song "It Might as Well be Spring." The hit song from the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical film "State Fair" really didn't have much to do with the impending end of WWII -- in fact the war was over by the time it was recorded and released as a single in the fall of 1945. Yet to my mind it is symbolic of the fresh new springtime start that the end of the war would bring for so many and could be equally meaningful in current times as we begin to climb out of the pandemic slowly but surely. 

I'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreams

I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing

I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud or a robin on the wing

But I feel so gay in a melancholy way

That it might as well be Spring

One of the things I always keep in the forefront of my mind when writing my WWII era novels is that no one had a crystal ball. My Red Cross Girl heroines faced the prospect of "for the duration" along with the servicemen. When they were packing up at home and in Washington after completing their training, they had no idea how many seasons would come and go before they experienced the familiarity of a hometown seasonal change once again. Many served in a climate quite unlike what they had experienced in their lifetime up to that point.

The holidays that mark the passage of the seasons were something our forces overseas observed however possible. The Red Cross Girls quashed their own homesickness in order to put on a happy face for holiday parties and dances. They knew it was important that these seasonal rituals carry on -- it was a spot of normalcy in what were extraordinary times. 

And so it goes with us. I know we're not there yet. That was true for the men and women serving overseas in 1945 -- feeling happy and hopeful "in a melancholy way," for by then everyone knew it was a matter of time. It's a matter of time on this pandemic too. Spring is in the air -- let's remain vigilant but hopeful!

Learn more about me and my writing on my website or follow me on my social media accounts at Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest. 

You can find my Clubmobile Girls novels on Amazon.