I have been fortunate. Nothing really bad ever happened to me. Enough sufferings and deprivations to keep me on my toes, but I had a loving warm household to grow up in, a caring partner to share my adult life with, a roof over my head, food in my tummy, clothes on my back and love and support from someone somewhere.
Even when my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer, my pap test came out positive, I took a month off to be with my family, came back and had the operation, and as soon as I was back with my family, my dad was carried to the hospital and later died, I felt things just fell into place. My job was flexible, and Family and Medical Leave Act was in effect, so I was able to take care of my health and my family. My husband took care of matters, so I was able to focus on my dad and mom when needed. It was stressful, but things resolved themselves.
For things to turn out exactly as you hope, I suppose you are expecting certain ways and results. I have learned to turn off my “expect” button. Expectations are the causes of disappointments, I believe. When you don’t expect, you often end up with the amazement of “Wow, it turned out alright.” Sure, I hope. One can always hope. If we stopped hoping, this world would become one ugly place, I think.
For me, so far, things have always worked out somehow. I hope this will always be the case.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “All It’s Cracked Up to Be.”
“Tell us about a time when everything actually turned out exactly as you’d hoped.”