This isn’t it- the limit of hope- or anything but it has admittedly given me some reason for hope.
The cup being held by the littlest girl in the photo (Caroline -who you’ll be glad to know is no longer bald) is the very same cup in the other photo. The first picture is from three and a half years ago and the second photo is from today. This cup “purple crocodile cup” is Caroline’s favorite. She loves it. And, no. It’s not actually purple (that story would make this one much too long).
The aged and chipped cup in the second photo is what it looks like now, it’s dull and scraped, and the crocodile -so famous- is hardly visible. Yet she loves it more now that she ever did. With its fading coloring it only grows in her love and affection. The less of its former glory it displays, somehow the more treasured it becomes. Maybe it’s because she knows or fears that croc won’t always be visible, so she’s loving it while she can -but I think she sees it much the same as she did that first day. The way it has aged is directly related to the love and “memories” it has… endured over the years.
It gives me hope. I know that I won’t always be what I was when I was young, but hopefully those around me will only see me with greater fondness and cherish me more than they did when they first knew me. I find it’s also how I look at those around me now, they mean so much more than they did before -even though I’d loved them back then as dearly as I thought I could. I think -I hope- it will be like that. I will begin to fade and I hope to be only more loved and treasured, don’t you?