Glass half full or glass half empty? I’m not entirely sure how full or empty my glass is, I’m just glad there’s something in it. On reflection, I think I’m probably a grateful optimist with pessimistic tendencies. In other words, as I’ve probably mentioned before, I’m a terrible worrier. Although my default setting probably leans towards optimism I can soon be blown off course by a random thought, usually a totally ridiculous one. Sometimes optimism can set me off on a bit of a roller coaster.
Optimism and pessimism start a conversation in my head.
O: He’s out late but he’ll be back soon. P: There’s been an accident two streets away, what if that was him, on his way home? O: Why would he be on that street? It’s not on his route. Anyway, he’s always careful. Won’t be long till he’s home. P: Two people injured! Two males! Must be him. O: Any minute now I’ll hear his key in the lock. P: OMG one's got gray hair, it's him!
And so it goes on.
When my uncle became seriously ill a couple of years ago his wife wrote emails to the family, detailing his condition and his future treatment. Reading between the lines it was obvious where the illness was heading. My mum, the eternal optimist, was convinced that her brother would bounce back to his previous healthy, funny, entertaining self. I tried, gently, to warn her to expect the worst. I thought I had maybe got through and she would not be shocked at the final outcome. We visited my uncle a few weeks before he died. I was extremely upset to see him so ill. My mom was still convinced he would recover. When he finally passed away my mom couldn’t believe it. We were all sad, but she was devastated at this unexpected loss. She told me she thought she’d been naive. I assured her that she’d remained optimistic throughout, and maybe that was her way of coping.
My mom is now 91. She’s a had a rough fourteen months, physically and emotionally, since my dad died. On the whole, she’s remained optimistic about the future, if not always her own, certainly that of the rest of the family. Desperately wanting to alleviate my mum’s grief, I realised, for the first time in my life, that this was something totally outside my control. I remained optimistic that things would eventually - very gradually - get better, but I had to accept that grief couldn’t be ‘cured’ or hurried or ‘solved’. We sat with it, talking, crying, laughing, hugging and let time pass. And then let it pass some more.
Although my optimism has sometimes taken a battering, I don’t think it’s a bad trait to have (even mine, with pessimistic tendencies). Having suffered from severe depression in the past, I know that optimism is the first thing to go. It just doesn't exist in a depressed state. Pessimism fills that void perfectly. However, in my normal state of mind, like my mum, I have an unswerving belief that I can sort out any problem - totally unfounded, I hasten to add - although we are both pretty practical people. Give us a roll of sellotape, a needle and thread, a couple of inches of velcro, a spanner and a screwdriver and all will be solved. Throw in a cup of tea and 'job’s a good’n.'
I apologize for so many references to sadness and death in a blog about optimism, but I must finish with these lyrics, beautifully sung by Louis Armstrong, as played at my dad's funeral. Family was everything to dad, and I like to think he chose this as an optimistic look towards the future of all those left behind.
What A Wonderful World by Douglas George
I see trees of green
Red roses too
I see them bloom
For me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
I see skies of blue
And clouds of white
The bright blessed day
The dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow
So pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces
Of people going by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, "How do you do?"
They're really saying
"I love you"
I hear babies cry
I watch them grow
They'll learn much more
Than I'll never know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Yes, I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Oh yeah
Thanks for reading........Jill
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