…for tomorrow is another day.
Such is my dedication to posting here, that I am writing this as the football world cup final plays out in the room next door. I am expecting it to be noisy…. the room houses three young men, and one slightly more senior, with beer and pizza in the mix.
The world cup seems to have passed me by. Apart from half a match spent paying more attention to sorting out baby clothes from the loft than watching the ball’s path around the pitch in hope of England managing to manoeuvre it into the appropriate net, I have seen very little. This is a shame, since I have just picked up a request (from one of the organisations I am doing some voluntary work for) to contribute some thoughts on what conclusions I might draw about what does and doesn’t work in team work, based on the tournament in Brazil. Oh well, I guess I know enough to conclude that using one’s teeth to vent frustration is not a good contribution in any team. Any other ideas?
It has been quite a day. We have travelled to Heathrow to bid our eldest well as he journeys to Dominican Republic for the next six weeks. My guess is that as travelling is not his favourite pastime and he has a 12 hour wait at Newark airport before transferring to the Dominican Republic, he would far rather be a fourth young man in our living room right now. Yet, in just a couple of days, he will be working with the Samaritan Foundation building homes to help those living in desperate circumstances to escape from hopelessness.
I guess the kind of hopelessness that results from living in a hot, unsanitary tiny space with a family income of less than 60 pence a day, bears no comparison to that which I can ever claim to have experienced. Nevertheless, I have to confess to a predisposition to being easily overtaken by feelings of hopelessness. Today, I am reminded that no situation is hopeless and it is perfectly possible for people’s lives to be transformed.
As I watched my son disappear through security at the airport I couldn’t help but be reminded of the times when he was a young boy and it seemed unrealistic to hope that he would ever live independently from us. His medical condition and the associated difficulties of accessing normal schooling, social life and experiences of growing up, left this family feeling, at times, almost hopeless, as to the prospects for his future. How right we were to hang on to the hope that he would overcome all the obstacles before him. Today, secure in the knowledge that he has nothing to fear, we walked away to the sound of the security alarm beeping, smiling as we pictured him pulling out his consultant’s letter explaining the extent of metal work in his leg.
Reasonable thinking has also led me to conclude, on many occasions, that there was no hope or prospect of any further enjoyment or quality of life for my mother. Today, I was stunned at the picture I received from my sister, of my Mum out and about in Tatton Park on a Motability scooter with a glint in her eye and looking like she was having the time of her life. This is the woman who yesterday was concluding that she would not be able to get out of bed after such a bad night of pain and worry and darkness of spirit. Yet with the help and encouragement of her carer, she was persuaded that it was worth it. With the persistence and cajoling of her daughters, she was accepting of being taken out in the car. With the sense of achievement of having been involved and valued as we shopped for clothes, she had the confidence to agree to lunch out. And today, for this day at least, the world held no obstacles. Freedom and independence were once again within her reach.
My justification for these deliberations as I plot my journey to work fulfilment, are simply to remind myself, and any others that may also require it, that there is never cause for complete hopelessness. The situation as seen today, does not determine the situation as it is tomorrow.
Today, it may seem that I have desired more than is attainable. Tomorrow? Well tomorrow is another day.