Clinging to hope

These days are proving perhaps more painful and difficult than I anticipated. I'm glad I'm nearly at the weekend, and will be able to take life more slowly for a few days.

Tonight has been really hard. Full of memories and tears.

Sleep remains an "adventure" full of vivid and powerful and unsettling dreams.

Hope has been a word central to so much of the year. And in some ways the symbol of a dove has been linked to that for me.

I have a dear friend, one of the most important people in my life, who has walked out much of this year with me. She has quite literally, over the course of the year, given me "hope" twice. Once early in the year. A broken hope, restored. And then again at Christmas. We saw each other briefly, and she gave me several small gifts. One was a resin cast of the word hope, with two doves nestled in it.

It's been hanging on our front door, and I didn't take it down when I put christmas back in a box last weekend. I left it hanging on our door for all who enter to see. Until tonight. As I was preparing to head for bed, I went and retrieved it. I need the literal ability to hold hope to myself tonight. I'm going to sleep with it next to me. I need that symbolism today. I'm so grateful for a friend who knows me well, and gave it to me. (I'm also grateful that she has taught me how helpful it can be at times to have that physical symbolism while you sleep - to have the symbolism of sleeping with a bible, or a rosary, or a scarf or hope clutched to yourself.)

I'm quite literally clinging to hope tonight, praying for my life.