Hopes, Joys, Cares Long Forgotten, New Cartoon

I'm feeling in a reflective mood this morning.  I'm thinking about how, some ten years ago, I was completing the requirements for my MFA in poetry.  My daughter was just over two-years-old, and my wife's bipolar seemed to be under control.  I had dreams of publication, a full-time teaching gig at the university, a bigger house.  Anything seemed possible.

A lot has changed in those ten years.  My daughter is a gorgeous young woman.  I have a smart, funny son.  I'm still living in the same house.  My wife has battled mental illness on several fronts--mania and sexual addiction and depression.  Our marriage has come back from the brink of divorce.  I've published a book of poems.  I'm still a part-time adjunct.  I still work 12 to 14 hour days between the school and the hospital.  And I still have dreams.

The Spirit gazed upon him mildly.  Its gentle touch, though it had been light and instantaneous, appeared still present to the old man's sense of feeling.  He was conscious of a thousand odours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares long, long forgotten.

Scrooge, during the course of A Christmas Carol, is reminded of his youthful dreams.  He sees himself as a boy again, filled with the kind of happiness that goes along with having your whole life ahead of you.  Of course, the difference is that Scrooge knows what the future holds for his teenage self.  And it ain't pretty.  In the company of the Ghost of Christmas Past, however, he allows himself, for a few moments, to be swept up in his old thoughts, hopes, joys, and cares.

I don't think you're ever too old to dream.  Despite everything that's happened in the past ten years, I still have dreams.  I haven't completely let go of my old ones, either.  I still believe I will one day have a full-time professorship at the university.  I still believe I will publish a book that will win the Pulitzer Prize.  I still believe I will live in a bigger house.  (I have lowered my standards on this dream.  I no longer need a mansion with a swimming pool.  I just want to be able to buy this beautiful, old house up the street.)  I still believe.

Scrooge has to be reminded by Jacob Marley and the Christmas Spirits about the importance of dreams.  Granted, now that Scrooge is old and rich, he has the means to make more of his dreams come true.  He starts dreaming again.  He dreams that Tiny Tim will walk and be healthy.  He dreams he will find the love of human beings in his life.

If I didn't have dreams, I wouldn't get out of bed in the morning.  There would be no point.  By the end of the book, Scrooge starts living his dreams again.  That's what Christmas is all about.  That's what life is all about.  Hopes.  Joys.  Cares.  Dreams.

Saint Marty, keeping his hopes and dreams alive.  (By the way, he wouldn't turn down a house with a swimming pool.)

Confessions of Saint Marty