‘Isn’t it pretty to think so.’
In Hemingway's poignant words, the sorrow of lost possibilities is tempered with a flicker of hope, suggesting that while the past may be irretrievable, the future still holds the potential for new joys.
‘Oh, Jake,’ Brett said. ‘We could have had such a damned good time together.’
Ahead was a mounted policeman in khakis directing traffic. He raised his baton. The car slowed suddenly, pressing Brett against me.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Isn’t it pretty to think so.’
–Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises
Haven’t we all experienced that feeling at one time or another, or perhaps many times? The ache of wondering what could have been, what might have been possible, but wasn’t meant to be. It’s a sentiment wrapped in disillusionment and acceptance, the weight of a past filled with potential, now overshadowed by the harshness of the present.
‘Isn’t it pretty to think so.’
But within the melancholy is a flicker of hope, not for things that could have been, but for things that might still be. A faint flickering star in the abyss, a solitary red balloon drifting upward, a raison d’être that leads to trust that joy will come in the morning.
About Paul
If you've navigated the complexities of love, loss, or life's unpredictable twists and turns, this blog is for you. Paul, who was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in 2022 and lost his beloved Jody in 2024, is also a father, new grandfather and a speaker/writer. Paul writes to make sense of the world around him, sharing his personal journey through grief, Parkinson’s, and life's challenges. With a mix of lightheartedness, thoughtfulness, and unwavering authenticity, Paul offers a relatable and heartfelt perspective on the human experience. His writing is often described as warm, genuine and deeply moving.