goingonhope
VIP Member
After my little guy's expensive bike and helmet were stolen from him and he, his sister and sitter all checked around the area only to have it not to be seen anywhere in sight. Hours later, and after dinner, I was on my way out for the evening when I decided to return to the scene of that crime.
I shot over there with about a 1.5% hope that I might find it, but with a 98.5% reason to help me accept it was gone. You see, I had begun to obsessively think about different factors and frustrations that had preceded this loss and a feeling of betrayal that just wouldn't lift.
My hope, was to bring closure to yesterday's reality that he owned a bike and helmet and did greatly enjoy riding it. I too was hoping that the churning feeling in my belly would dissipate some and my obsessive thinking-style leave.
Instead, my freind and I pull into the parking lot, check out the bicycle rack, circle around only once, for the hell of it, and there way off in the dark I see a twinkling of what I imagined was likely a tin can. But could it be part of a bike. No way, I thought. Had considered it gone forever, but decide I'll make this one attempt to check out that barely flickering glare. Only to find it was a soda pop can right.
No way, it was his bike and his helmet and when I walked through the door with his helmet shortly later, while standing on the carpeted stairs, he threw open his arms, smiled and said, as if in sheer surprise and some shock: "There is hope."
What a beautiful moment followed by lots of his ear to ear smiles, hugs and kisses.
Can't way to see him again tommorrow.
Hope
I shot over there with about a 1.5% hope that I might find it, but with a 98.5% reason to help me accept it was gone. You see, I had begun to obsessively think about different factors and frustrations that had preceded this loss and a feeling of betrayal that just wouldn't lift.
My hope, was to bring closure to yesterday's reality that he owned a bike and helmet and did greatly enjoy riding it. I too was hoping that the churning feeling in my belly would dissipate some and my obsessive thinking-style leave.
Instead, my freind and I pull into the parking lot, check out the bicycle rack, circle around only once, for the hell of it, and there way off in the dark I see a twinkling of what I imagined was likely a tin can. But could it be part of a bike. No way, I thought. Had considered it gone forever, but decide I'll make this one attempt to check out that barely flickering glare. Only to find it was a soda pop can right.
No way, it was his bike and his helmet and when I walked through the door with his helmet shortly later, while standing on the carpeted stairs, he threw open his arms, smiled and said, as if in sheer surprise and some shock: "There is hope."
What a beautiful moment followed by lots of his ear to ear smiles, hugs and kisses.
Can't way to see him again tommorrow.
Hope
