Despair and Hope

The end of December can be fraught with dejection. My worst childhood Christmas came in 1960 when I didn’t get a Chatty Cathy doll. Mom said, too expensive. Instead I got a blue stuffed poodle (the previous year I had asked for a dog).

This Christmas, I looked for that doll on eBay, but soon realized it wouldn’t heal me. I had to live in the present. On my fridge, I taped up some notes I got from young piano students: “You’re a real light saber!” “I hope you get to see a lot of movies on your vacation.” “You’re so funny.”

I want to be hopeful. I look forward to a new year, new ideas, new gifts and new surprises. Who cares if I don’t get what I think I want? That blue poodle was more cuddly than a plastic doll, and since my mother was on the outside edge of the autism spectrum, I sure needed a good cuddle.

As we pass into the new year, appreciate what others might know about you that you don’t know yourself. Keep connections and make some new ones. Try to replace times of despair with hope.