There is an escape from the troubles you face if you just stop and ask for help
One of my family members died recently. It was unexpected, out of the blue, and a big punch in the gut.
People ask why, but that’s not the question I have on my mind.
It’s hard. I mean, you just assume that things are going well with others. Even if that’s not the case, there’s only so much one can do if your plate is full with your own life.
The question I have, instead of why did a person die, is about the quantity and quality of hope.
“How much hope did he have left?"
Hope is a powerful force, a beacon that rescues you in times of crisis, a buoy on the ocean that keeps you afloat. Hope keeps you going when all else fails.
Yes, mental health is a contributing factor as well. Was he troubled? Did he have past traumas that overwhelmed him to the point of despair? Good questions indeed.
But for me, it probably came down to hope or the lack thereof.
“Will things get better?" is a question that millions of people ask themselves every day around the world. That inquiry has to do with hope and a person wondering about the future, about the quality of life going forward.
I’m sure my family member asked this question over and over, and maybe he thought about all the possibilities, both good and bad, and the probabilities of all of them.
“How much hope was left?” I ask.
The answer, it seems, was not so much at all.
It’s easy to talk about resources and friends and family and how they were all available. One can suggest to “grin and bear it" or “keep at it" or some other encouragement. None of that would have been powerful enough, in my mind.
He could have reached out to us, picked up the phone, sent a message, or even showed up at the front door. But it didn’t happen. It just didn’t.
I write never give up hope for him. In fact, I just assumed things were going well in his life and that everything was fine. You just don’t know.
I would have helped. I could have helped. Maybe hope could have been restored.