Off You Go


I grew up surrounded by the scent of water and motor oil. Water from the lake near my home and oil, the unfortunate gift left behind by the boats as they loaded and unloaded in and out of the murky waters.

Swimming, sun bathing, and bicycles filled the summers of my youth. These were summers made for true adventures—-Nancy Drew level adventures.

So, I was completely caught off guard when the day finally arrived. My Dad moved my bike from the garage to the driveway. He called up to my bedroom from below. He stood silently, wrench in hand, over my cobalt blue, Schwinn Pixie. The bike of my little girl dreams. It was fully loaded with a custom license plate and pink and white plastic streamers that danced happily from the ends of the handle bars-sheer perfection. With one strong tug, he tore off the confidence I relied on from my training wheels. He told me to hop on and that he would be right behind me holding on.

The gravel road was filled with big, bubbly pockets of hot tar from the summer sun. We were off and running. I felt the strength of my Dad’s hand planted at the back of my white leather seat.

Slightly out of breath he yelled, “steady, steady, balance, easy does it.”

We whizzed on faster and faster, and he continued “pedal, pedal, don’t forget to pedal.”

And then, the single magical moment when I knew, and he knew I knew.
I was staying upright on my own.

I turned my head and there was nothing between us but a road of freshly popped tar bubbles, and my Dad in his Bermuda shorts and knee socks waving to me from a distance.

I could almost hear his thoughts…..

There you go…..fly, fly. You can do it, I know you can. You did it. Don’t look back.

There are moments when a secret smile of success says it all. Simple moments that fuel you for a lifetime.

Debbie Hope
Full of Hope

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My mom was an addict


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My Mom was an addict.

She left traces everywhere,
and didn’t seem to care
about the pieces she
whimsically strewn
here and there.

She couldn’t go out without partaking.
A true obsession in the making.

Everyone around her knew.
We kept her secret and never shared
the nitty, gritty details
of her sordid affairs.

You must have seen them,
they were everywhere,
in every shape and size.

There were pitchers, vases,
water goblets, cream and sugar bowls.
Dishes for candy and butter,
and pickles, and relish-yes, even relish.

Endless amounts of ashtrays, punch bowls,
cake plates, salt and pepper shakers, brandy decanters
(she never even drank brandy)

There were special
containers for olives and teeny, tiny
pearl white onions.

Everything you could
imagine was there.

So many patterns refracting the light,
amazing prisms of delight.
Designs of stars, diamonds, crests,
it was a beautiful cut glass world.

Today, as I look around,
I see sparkling reminders of the
light from my mothers eyes,
when she returned home with
another piece of cut glass heaven.

Debbie Hope
Full of Hope

The Present


I roamed the halls of my high school
year after endless year,
and watched as oodles of boys hung their
athletic arms adoringly over the shoulders
of their latest love……
Yins to each Yang–or so each hoped.

Life pushed on, and although I forgot,
delivered on a long ago prayer.
A shiny gift,
of true,
abiding Love.

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The Imperceptible Shift


And so it begins,
more of me and less of You,
trying to squash the fear in me,
unnerved by how it shows through.

Fear has pummeled my door.
Thick, icy layers
staunch and steadfast
wrapped tightly around my soul.

Less glancing up,
more searching within,
intentionally moving away,
I knowingly waiver.

Intentional masterminding,
controlling, calculating.
Less relying,
continuously believing.
Have I pushed you away?

I want to lean in and look up
but, my humaness takes over.
Swirling worldly emotions suck
me back to my own scheming.

Please invite me back.
I need a place to rest,
and unhitch my load.

A tiny vignette of eternal paradise
would surely do the trick,
A glimmer of Grace.

Debbie Hope
Full of Hope

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