...but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.
My hope isn't exactly deferred, it's just beginning. I don't expect to see concrete, tangible results soon. We are waiting on government agencies and academia, and they typically make glaciers look like Indy cars. Once we have answers, treatments will need to be tested, then treatment recommendations made, and for me, then they will have to trickle down to the insurance plans to the doctors. So I'm settling in for a good long period of hoping. If I'm wrong and things move more quickly, then hoorah!
But in this case, the dream fulfilled will truly be a tree of life.
I don't know if treatment will come in time for me to recover my health, since I'm closer to old biddy than Spring chicken. I hope it does; there are many things I'd still like to do that are beyond me now. But if nothing else, I will have vindication, and the knowledge that you younger ones will have a life. Perhaps one day there will be a vaccine, and people will learn about us as they do now about the people in the polio epidemics, and they'll shake their heads in disbelief at the things that were done to us by supposed scienctists. Maybe they'll learn something from us that will prevent the next great scourge from happening.
I guess I have a lot of hopes that aren't deferred as long as I'm still hoping them.
I also have private hopes that I hold on to. If I can't get completely well, I hope I can get better. I'd like to be able to work in the garden again. I'd like to meet my grandson. I'd like to have some chickens one day, and a dog. I'd like to get back out to the desert and see the stars. Okay, maybe hope deferred DOES make the heart sick, because as I think about these things I am starting to feel heartsick. I think I'll put off hoping for them a little longer and enjoy what I have today. There's a bright, clear blue sky outside my window, and a sea breeze is keeping the temperature just about perfect. A few late-blooming California poppies are bobbing in the breeze. My husband and my cat are both napping, and I feel well enough that I think I'll be able to cook dinner tonight. Life is good.