How do you handle hope, estranged parents?
I imagine stories of hope have been around for as long as we’ve had written language. Perhaps most frequently we think of Pandora’s Box from Greek mythology. After opening a box that releases evil into the world, Pandora closes it before hope can escape.
If I’d been asked about the concept of hope pre-estrangement, I think I would have emphasized holding on to it no matter what. I’m a counselor, a helper, a decent human who also happens to be a father. In the direst of circumstances, what remains of our emotional wellbeing if we let that flickering light we call hope extinguish?
The Sunday after the 9/11 attacks, I was in church, and eager to hear our sharp young pastor’s sermon. How does one address a congregation after such a tragedy?
His theme resonated with me, and still does: “The message remains the same.”
That is, there is still hope. What had happened in New York the previous Tuesday would not, could not change this.
But estrangement taught me that dwelling on hope can be a mistake. The days continue to tick by, and to spend much of that time with the expectation of improvement can be disheartening. I lean towards optimism, but unchecked hope began to take an emotional toll. The repeated disappointment of no resolution, no contact, no way to control the source of my distress made it clear that I needed to change how I handle hope.
The change? I closed the box, and I only open it when I need it most. Pandora was on to something.
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[Shout out to my wife, Renee, who first suggested to me that the way I was handling hope did me a disservice.]
