Sandoval Signpost


An Independent Monthly Newspaper Serving the Community since 1988
  My Wife and Times
Daniel Will Harris

The Sandoval Signpost (Web edition) is pleased as punch (diet punch that is) to bring you the humor and insightful human observations of Daniel Will Harris, author of My Wife and Times. —Ed].


I Hope So. . .

By Daniel Will Harris

Little did I know how little I knew. Three years ago I saw a new year coming, and I couldn't envision how it would turn out. I didn't have a dream. I didn't have a plan. I didn't have hope.

That's when I got very sick. I'm not one of those people who think "you make yourself sick," but I do think that I made myself susceptible to getting sick. How? I was afraid. No, I was sore afraid.

Three years ago, despite my having kept up with the times, having been on the cutting edge and moving my business to the web, the changing economy was putting my long-time clients out of business, things were uncertain, and it took its toll on me.

Looking back on it, my wife says my perception didn't jive with reality, but back then I couldn't see six months ahead, much less 6 years. I couldn't imagine it. I couldn't even day dream it. It was like the world was flat, and I was sailing off the edge. And it was so exhausting that my body couldn't fight what I got. And it just got worse, and worse, and worse.

Instead of having faith that I would get better, I just had fear that I would continue to get worse. I wasn't afraid of dying. I was afraid of not living. I was afraid of letting my family down. I was afraid of not being able to do what I thought I was capable of doing.

I had literally forgotten how to dream. I used to have elaborate, interesting dreams, but during this time I just slept. I used to have entertaining day dreams, but at this point I was too realistic. The dreams sank under all the reasons why they were impossible.

As I got sicker, and a dark future looked closer every day, I became angry and envious of other people's enthusiasm and energy. There was one particular commercial where the people were so happy about buying and installing car parts that it made me cry. I wanted to be that excited about a brake shoe—even if it meant wearing one.

Finally I stopped believing I could get well again. My doctors never told me I could. They only said they could cut big parts out of me. Hope didn't seem like an option. Yet every night before bed, my wife would simply say, "Things will be better tomorrow," and that kept a glimmer of hope alive.

That glimmer got me through. Finally a wonderful doctor said "You can be well again." Hope was once again an option, then a direction, then a force, then reality.

I learned that hope is the ONLY option. Without hope I have nothing. Hope isn't "wishful thinking" of the "if wishes were horses" variety. Hope is the most powerful force in the universe. Hope is faith—in spirit, nature, science, humanity.

What matters is having hope in the future—hope that we will wake up tomorrow to a better day. Hope IS the future—the only future worth having.

Around this time of year, when I want to be appreciative that I'm now totally healthy and hopeful about tomorrow, it gets colder, and darker. And despite celebrations, I somehow see more things that seem hopeless. Injustice. Hunger. War. Age-old issues we humans have yet to rise above.

I would have thought that 2000 years AD (or in the year 5761 in the Hebrew calendar) we, as a species, we would have been more together than we are. But that's just an expectation. Expectations usually only lead to disappointment.

At times like this, I know I have a choice now. I can be afraid, or I can be hopeful. I choose hope. 

I wish you hope.


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My Wife and Times Cover


If you would like to read more fabulous stories, you need Daniel Will Harris’s My Wife and Times. The 148 page book contains stories that are conveniently short, perfect for bedtime reading, or between airport friskings. Price: $15 postpaid and is available for purchase online at or on

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