Sometimes hope is hard

On Monday morning, I started thinking about the first note of the year, and I landed on the idea of hope. 

Every year the turning of the calendar creates hope, but after the mess that was 2020, the Pennsylvania sky did seem a shade bluer and the promise of better days for the country and the pandemic put a skip in my step. 

Then Wednesday happened. 

Throughout the afternoon that sense of hope was dimmed. Galling acts of dishonor stained our Capitol, and an arcane, yet beautiful, act of government work was interrupted. I saw my four children, all of whom became fully engaged in their community and country over the past two years, gathered around a TV asking unanswerable questions. 

But as I write this on Thursday morning, hope prevails again. In politics, the wee hours of this morning saw the election confirmed and peace restored to Washington, D.C. 

And as regards the pandemic, we have seen vaccinations begin and updates on new trials and vaccines continue to emerge. There are weeks and months before any level of all clear, but there is a crack in the clouds. 

So I’m choosing to focus on the blue sky again, and look forward to a summer spent at baseball games, with family, and hosting friends in person. It’s not often hope is the harder course, but right now it is, and I’m relishing the climb.

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