There is Always Hope

During the eight days my mother spent in the hospital, her last 8 days on earth, there were all sorts of doctors and nurses attending to her. Some were indifferent, some were blunt trying to prepare me for the inevitable. However, there was one doctor that was kind to this frightened 21 year old who was told that it was hopeless. That kind doctor asked me, “Who said that to you? There is hope. There is always hope.” For a moment, I looked at him with tear stained cheeks and felt a little better. For a moment, it was possible that this wasn’t the end of her life. For a moment, I felt peaceful and calm.

I remember being seated on the floor at my father’s feet while we were in the waiting room. We knew it was just a matter of time before we were told that she was gone, but there was safety in numbers and my dad and I would become a new team. I remember resting my head on his knee and saying, “We’ll be okay Dad.” Eventually ,we were. Eventually, I learned how to take care of the household chores and get my life back on track. Oh, there were several detours along the way, like my back going out and discovering that I would need surgery. Another detour was losing my state scholarship because I had missed two weeks of school after mom died. It took nine months to get it back and in the meantime, I discovered I could cook and ended up going to professional cooking school instead.

Something else I discovered was that I had inherited my mother’s green thumb. Back then, the tree in the backyard wasn’t as large as it is now and there was plenty of sunlight to have a vegetable garden. I took great pride in growing carrots, celery and cucumbers. Eventually, I became a regular Martha Stewart. So much so that I actually made my own wedding cake out of alternating pumpkin and amaretto cheesecakes, my specialty and I made a cucumber salad to serve at our small at-home wedding reception with the cucumbers I had grown myself.

As the years rolled on, the garden lost out to play sets for my children and the ones I did day care for. The tree that my mom had grown from seed grew so large, it began to push up and crack the cement patio, but it provided lovely shade so we could enjoy being outdoors without being cooked alive. Eventually, ground cover took over and it was time to redesign the small yard so that would be aesthetically pleasing, yet functional. My youngest son also inherited a green thumb and we incorporated four raised planting beds in which he could experiment with his varied planting techniques. I however, chose to focus on making the remainder of the space my little haven. I discovered shepherd’s hooks and hanging baskets and chose to eliminate all of the grass and put down decorative rock instead. Finally, I decided to treat myself to something I had wanted for years, a fountain.

I wanted one that looked natural, not some white 3 tiered monstrosity, so I found a fountain that looked like a babbling brook and surrounded it with potted plants. It was also about this time that I discovered solar lights! I’m a little embarrassed to say that over the years, my collection of solar lights has grown to be quite sizable, almost as large as my collection of pink flamingos, my other passion. Each year there seems to be another addition. No matter how much I try to avoid making another purchase, a solar light or pink flamingo always manages to find its way into my shopping cart or be gifted to me.

I get the biggest kick out of sitting in the backyard as the sun sets, waiting for the light show to begin. For me, it’s like watching fireworks as they come on one by one. Ooo, there’s one! Awww, another. That one is pretty and it flashes too! I strategically place them so that there is something to see in every section of the yard. Along with the sound of my fountain, it’s my little piece of heaven on earth. Before my dad passed, he enjoyed sitting out there with me, smoking his cigars. We would comment how much my mom would have enjoyed the yard as well. I can only imagine how excited she would have been to see my solar lights collection. So many different types and colors, I even have a flashing Tiki face placed in the corner I have deemed “The Tiki Corner”. Too much fun and yet, so peaceful. My mom would have loved the fountain as well. Sometimes I like to think that she is sitting there with me enjoying the show. In fact, I bet she is always there with me, dad too now.

As Autumn arrives, the garden slowing falls asleep. Right about now, it looks like it could be Halloween decorations with all the dying flowers, but the solar lights live on. It’s always a thrill, coming home after a closing shift at work, to be greeted by the light show. I only recently turned off the fountain, so it’s very still and quiet. As the amount of sun lessens, some of the lights are not getting enough of a charge to last long enough until I get home or they only flash periodically. However, I’m happy to say that the Tiki face one, is going strong!

Last night, I was watching a new TV series about modern love. It made me think about John, “The Pilot”. Sometimes, I would sit in the backyard waiting for him to come home and enjoy its beauty with me. Sadly, even though it’s been a year, there are nights when I think, “John will be home soon.” Then I realize, that’s never going to happen again…ever and I get sad. Last night was one of those nights.

As I sat there in the stillness of the night, taking in the beauty of my solar lights, I thought I saw something. I thought I saw a flash of blue light, but when I looked in that direction, there was nothing there. I figured it was just my imagination playing tricks with my broken heart. It’s times like these that I feel my heart doesn’t receive enough sunlight to remain bright into the night. Sometimes I feel like I’ll never love again, I’ll never experience a wonderful relationship like the one I thought I had, but for real. Sometimes I feel like there’s no hope of ever finding the love I desire, no hope for this tired old soul, none.

As the tears rolled down my cheeks, I thought I saw the blue light again. This time, I kept my eyes focused on the one spot hoping to catch whatever it was that was playing tricks with my mind. I sat still and patiently waited for whatever I saw, to show itself again. It was faint, but there it was, one of my lights that just isn’t getting enough sunlight to shine bright, but hasn’t given up just yet. First it was blue, then slowly it appeared again as red, like a slow faint pulse, it was there, it was still alive.

I took its faint glow as a message from wherever we go when were done with this physical existence, a message from her. “There is hope. There is always hope.” Okay Mom, I will be patient and tend our garden until it’s ready to spring back to life. Maybe next year? Maybe sooner, maybe later, but it’s going to be a great romance, right Mom?

Thanks Mom. I love you too.