Fairy Dust

I often feel the vast majority of the people out there see the stuff I write is nothing more than fluff and being a professional cynic myself I can understand. I mean hell the world’s a shitty place and who wants to read some “touchy, feely” crap about holding yourself to a “higher standard” when the world doesn’t really give a damn. In these times in which we live it's impossible not to think that way. Right? 

It's just that way down deep inside me there's still this young broken kid that likes to think that dreams can still come true. That hope still springs eternal if enough sheer will is applied. The world is hard and as adults it's really easy to see that fact. But when you look into the eyes of your grandchild it's easy to get reacquainted with the world of hopes and dreams.

Once our youngest hit his teens it was easy to losing sight of fairy dust and optimism of life. You end up focusing on nothing but the hard core realities of this world. And before you know it reality can suck you in and build this cold hard fortress around your once hopeful inner-kid. But not long after our daughter became pregnant a pain began growing within my own soul. The pain was uncomfortable and stressful; it created a fear and uncertainty I hadn't felt in quite a while. It was a fear that didn't subside until my own little brush with death in August of 2015.

But since that time for me each day has become a sort of epiphany in a way. A reawakening of the hope I always carried, that I hope we still all carry within ourselves. That desire that tells us there's something more than just what you can see in front of us. So as I watch our daughter and son-in-law raise our grandchild a long dampened faith reawakens. It reminds me all hope is not lost and that dreams can still come true.