“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” I said as I followed my 12 year old daughter up the stairs. “But I’m going to, she replied.” I nearly choked on my tongue as I realized what I had said. I’m glad my daughter has enough of herself to push back against me, and follow her heart.
“Don’t get your hopes up”, my words which really have more to do with me than they do with her. If she gets her hopes up, what happens if it doesn’t turn out the way she wants it to? She’s going to be upset and then I’m going to have to deal with my feelings I have about her being upset; so in a way I am trying to control her being upset so I can be okay. In recognition of what is going on, I respond to her, “Please keep hoping.” She smiles as we’ve been through this before.
This time she was going to try out for a citywide play, she had never tried out before, never done drama and from what I heard from a friend of mine is, “I always let my daughter try out, but she never makes it, it’s a good experience though.” And I had drawn the same conclusion, I would let my daughter try out, with little to no expectation of her making it. In some ways I was already trying to protect myself from disappointment. A life-long skill of survival, if I don’t hope for much, I don’t have to grieve much either.
She showed up, tried out, and waited for results. In the few days she waited she talked about it a lot. She wanted to be Susan, in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, the lead role of course. “Let her hope”, I told myself “It’s good for her, she needs to go after it”, and honestly I had fear of what was going to happen when it didn’t happen that way. The afternoon came to check to see if got a part. I skimmed the list, starting with the extras, from the bottom up towards the top, I wasn’t seeing her name yet. And then…there it was… a lead part the White Witch. I was pretty stunned and pretty relieved. We did have a few tears and a conversation about not wanting to be the bad person, but we seemed to navigate that pretty well.
Theater practice was twice a week, for 2 hours, plus practicing at home. She was getting good and we, meaning myself, dad, younger bother and about 40 of our closest friends were ready, anticipation building for the big day, March 28th. I had imagined what that was going to be like for her. Would she be nervous? Would she shine? Would she forget her lines? Regardless, I would be proud of her.
And then strange things started happening. Less than a couple weeks before the play, corona virus broke out. School was closed for the rest of the year, cancellation of March Madness, the shelves of stores were empty, and now talk of possible stay at home orders. What would this mean for the play? Initially it was cancelled with the intent of rescheduling, but as time passed it was inevitable, it was cancelled for good. Craps. Not the outcome anyone had expected.
My daughter came into the kitchen with tears in her eyes, letting us know the play just wasn’t going to be. I walked over to her, one arm hugged her back, and the other around her shoulders and head. I could feel the warmth of her against my chest as I watched the tears roll down her cheeks. A time to grieve. Hope greatly, AND grieve deeply. This play mattered to her. I was sad too, and really still am. I was looking forward to it, and she was too.
Some would say, “It’s just a play,” or “There will be another time” or “There are worse things” or “At least no one got sick”, which in some sense is all true, but it also diminishes the value of what happened, which also diminishes our ability to grieve. And without the ability to grieve, we won’t be able to hope again. If we don’t hope for much, we don’t have to grieve much either. And we slowly, over time, shut ourselves down. We play it safe, empty, and unfulfilled.
It’s not the life we wanted, and not the life we were designed for. We are made to live fully. And in order to live fully we have to be able to hope greatly and grieve deeply, both ends of the full spectrum.
So, as we move into a time of re-opening, gatherings, face to face relationships some good questions to ask yourself.
What did I, or what have I missed during covid-19?
What does it look like to grieve these things? How can I honor my grief?
Grieving well will be proportionate to your being able to hope again. If you find yourself struggling to hope, ask yourself is there something else I need to grieve?
And then…
Are there areas I am aware of shutting myself down?
What do I hope for?
What do I need to step into hope again?
Be Sent Life Restoration is a 501(c)3 not for profit organization providing life restoration services on a sliding fee scale. If you or someone you know have questions or are interested in these services you make contact us here.