When This is Over

By Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams

Those four words are the ones I’ve heard over and over in the past few weeks. I’m sure you’ve heard them, too. Perhaps you’ve even spoken them. I have.

Just four little words. Not profound unto themselves, and yet they say so much. They point to an equally little word. Another with four letters, but one which holds so much promise.

Hope.

Without hope, there would be no utterance of when this is over. There would be only despair and grim acceptance that this is the way life will be from this point forward. There would be no more family gatherings, no more hugs. No more dinner with friends. No more play-dates for our kids. No more life as we knew it.

Happy New Year--2019

By Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams

Here it is, yet another new year. It seems we are surprised that they come so quickly—yet, they arrive at the same rate every year—unless it’s a leap year.

Many of my friends are writers, but many are not. Most of my writer-friends choose a word for the coming year. I generally have one that keeps repeating during the year, but I rarely, if ever, post it. I’m going to do that this year.

My Word

This year, my word is hope. I think this could actually be a lifetime word, not just my word for the year. It seems I’m always praying and hoping for one thing or another.

Merriam-Webster defines hope as an intransitive verb: to cherish a desire with anticipation, to want something to be true. Or, as a transitive verb: to desire with expectation of obtainment or fulfillment. I think my hope lies in the transitive category. Although, I’m sure that some of my hopes fall into the intransitive category as well.