Perhaps the one thing that kept me sane during the times when I was in bed for months, not able to sit straight, or sleep sideways, staring at the ceiling with earphones on; the hope that someday all this would pass. The music and sounds of television filled my ears daily. To this day, my reference of that time is well understood by the tunes I learned. When I hear a song form this bedridden era, I can tell you if it is after, during, or before the accident.
Hope, I found in details that other people would miss in the environment. It is the direction you want to take that sets the course for the rest of your thoughts. My eyesight suffered; my heart was contempt, my mind hopeful.
During my teenage years, I suffered an accident that damaged my right eye. After several operations, the final verdict came in my early 40’s. The doctor, without hesitation and in a clinical tone, said “that eye needs to be taken out.” That was the end of the road for me. For years I’ve lived - since age 16 - hoping to restore vision in my right eye.
During the trip back from the doctor’s office, I drowned in intense analysis of all the dynamic interactions of many years. I sat there, in the passenger's seat wanting to cry, but the tears didn’t have a purpose. Crying, it seemed, was irrelevant. Instead, as we got closer to the house, a sense of new hope and closure enveloped me.
For many years, I thought, hope and expectations had provided the comfort to have all the things that other kids wished and didn’t have; parties, friends. For many years, my physical condition gave me hope instead of anxiety or depression.
It is, indeed, the direction of my thoughts that dictates where my mind goes. I made a determination that this is what I wanted. My mind and heart gripped tightly onto hope. In the process, the realization of loss of sight in my right eye, allowed the introduction of so many other hopeful ideas and principles that I now enjoy; hope never dies.