I can’t give up hope

The sun will come out, tomorrow…let’s hope!

Okay. One last essay from that “What I hope for” prompt I assigned late last year. This one comes from Elaine Fishman. Look up the word “Delightful” in the dictionary, and you should find a photo of Elaine’s tiny face there. She and her husband Guy, a well-known Chicago architect, raised their four children in Chicago’s north suburbs. When Guy died in 2017, Elaine was nearly 80 years old. She was ready to quit driving, her children were grown, and it didn’t take long to decide to leave the suburbs, downsize and find a small place in downtown Chicago.

Elaine fills her days now enjoying Millennium Park, visiting nearby museums, catching free music concerts, and, most importantly, sharing her stories each week with our “Me, Myself and I” memoir-writing class at the Chicago Cultural Center.

Her “What I Hope For” essay began with good wishes for mankind, hopes that the homeless will find shelter, the hungry will get fed and so on. “Tomorrow will bring a better day,” she wrote. “It is important to live with hope and continue in the ever lasting pursuit of joy for ourselves.”

From there, her essay got more personal. “In January my children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews are gathering all together,” she wrote. “They will be coming from Maine, New York, California and the Midwest.” And here’s the glorious ending, in Elaine’s exact words:

I hope that every one will catch their flight. I hope the rooms are not too shabby, I hope the food is okay, I hope that there is good beer and wine, I hope everyone stays healthy. And most of all, I hope that everyone will have a good time. I know I will!

And who knows? Maybe this trip will help staunch my becoming a crabby hopeless old lady.

I hope so!