How to find hope when all seems impossible

Transcriber: Delia Cohen
Reviewer: Peter Van de Ven

Please picture a six-year-old boy

who like most boys his age
is a complete Mama’s boy.

One night, while his mother was bathing,

she calls out to him

and instructs him
to bring her a plastic bag.

The boy readily obliges her,

as he always tries to do anything
he can to help his mother.

Now imagine the horror he feels

when moments later
he sees his mother’s body

lying limp in the bathtub

with that same plastic bag
that he had given her over her head.

Never would he had helped her that night,

had he known he’d be assisting her
in an attempt to commit suicide.

And although my mother survived,

I couldn’t help but to ask myself, “Why?”

And “Why?” is a commonly asked question
among friends and family members

after a loved one
has committed such an act.

Why would they do such a thing?

Why didn’t they say anything?

Why didn’t I see this happening?

For those of us who found ourselves
asking this exact question,

I can only assume

we’d like to believe
we could have done or said something

in order to prevent
such a horrific act from happening.

And sadly, that may be true,

but ultimately,

the one thing that can prevent
a person from doing so on their own

is the feeling of hope.

And when I came to prison in 2003,

I didn’t feel that hope,

and I thought suicide would be
the solution to my problems.

I thought it would alleviate
the sense of shame

and the guilt that I felt
from taking someone else’s life;

help me to avoid the potential fate

of having to serve more time in prison
than I’ve been alive;

and also to eliminate
all thoughts and feelings

of never again being able to live
a meaningful and purposeful life.

I was at my lowest point,

but it was the pounding of my heart

that stopped me from following
through on that act.

But still,

living with those thoughts and feelings

seemed to be impossible.

But since that moment,

thanks to a friend giving me a typewriter,

typing has really helped me
to deal with such thoughts and feelings,

as I will oftentimes type
just to relieve my frustration.

Now, ironically, in doing so,

I found myself even
more frustrated at times

because I was so horrible at typing.

It was largely due to the fact
that I would type fast,

because I was concerned

with trying to sound like a professional
who could type 100 words a minute,

but I wasn’t.

In fact, I probably made
100 mistakes a minute.

But nonetheless, the mistakes that I made
didn’t matter as much

because the letters I typed would
never reach their intended recipient,

let alone see the light of day.

And on this particular day,

I was typing up my response

to a woman who had told me
that being married would be impossible.

And as I read over the response,

I noticed I misspelled
the word “impossible,”

and it read as “I’m possible.”

Now I believe that
this is one of the few instances

where being a horrible typist
has its advantages,

because this type of error allowed me
to see the word “impossible” differently.

And this was kind of a big deal

as that word has been associated

with so many negative
experiences in my life,

including those that made me
want to give up.

But there was something about seeing
the words “I’m possible” -

although grammatically incorrect -

that made me feel
as if giving up isn’t an option

and life is always worth living

despite how bad things may appear to be.

So I now associate
the words “I’m possible”

with the amazing experiences in my life

and refer to them
as “I’m possible” moments,

simply because I’m possible

of turning the seemingly impossible
into a golden opportunity

as long as I don’t give up.

And this is something
that everyone can do.

And despite my circumstances,

I’ve been fortunate enough to experience
quite a few “I’m possible” moments,

Perhaps the most noteworthy one
I’ve experienced this far

has been the meeting
of my beautiful and lovely wife Renee

and getting married in 2014.

(Applause)

Thank you.

My baby.

This woman’s presence in my life

has been completely euphoric.

So imagine how excited I was

when she revealed to me in June of 2016

that she was pregnant with our child.

(Applause)

Let me tell you, I was thrilled.

You know, I always wanted to be a father.

However, the joy I felt was short-lived,

when a few weeks later doctors suggested

that my wife -

who has congestive heart failure -

that she should terminate the pregnancy

because it would be impossible
for her to survive the birth

and our child’s life
would be in danger as well.

My wife and I essentially had to make
a life-or-death decision,

and we chose life.

And as a result, on December 9th, 2016,

our 9-pound, 11-ounce baby boy was born.

(Applause)

Oh, and by the way,
my wife survived the birth as well.

(Applause)

I believe that this “I’m possible” moment

best illustrates what happens
if we don’t give up

and we choose life.

Case in point:

Had I given up in 2003,

I wouldn’t be able to experience
the endless joy

that my family brings me today.

There are approximately one million people
worldwide who commit suicide a year.

That’s almost one suicidal death
every 40 seconds.

Sadly, these individuals
would never be able to experience

the plentiful “I’m possible” moments
that life has to offer.

Sadly, there are countless others

who are either struggling
with the thoughts of such acts

or has already attempted to do so,

as people are in desperate need

of the feeling of hope
that will inspire them to live

and remind them
that they have a purpose for doing so

despite the impossible moments of trauma,
adversity, depression, and hopelessness

that they’re facing.

And I can’t help but to think
of a young lady

who attended our Youth Assistance Program

who was dealing with
the impossible moments of her life,

and I would now like to read a response

that she sent just a few weeks
after attending our session.

And it reads:

“I know that I didn’t ask
any questions during this trip,

but I would like to say thank you
for these conversations we had.

I was really affected
by the suicide conversation

because that is something

that I have dealt with
for about 9 to 10 years of my life.

I had a horrible childhood growing up
that affected me physically and mentally.

I tried to get help so many times,

and it never worked.

But hearing someone say that I’m worth it
and meant for great things

really meant a lot to me.

I grew up in a really bad home,

where my parents fought 24/7

and my dad constantly
put me down about myself.

After years of this,

I tried to take my life
a few times but failed.

I stopped trying to get help

because no one understood my situation
or the trauma I faced growing up.

But for a small second,

that conversation we had
made me feel the smallest bit of hope,

which I haven’t felt in a long time.

So thank you all for everything.”

(Applause)

This young lady was in need
of the feeling of hope,

so I shared with her what I felt
the night I decided to give up.

It was a feeling that reminded me

we have purpose

and we should always choose life.

And I would now like to share
with everyone what that hope was

by asking everyone to please
place their hands over their hearts.

(Heartbeat sounds)

Feel that?

Know what that’s called?

It’s called our purpose.

It’s a reminder
that we’re alive for a reason.

Our heartbeat is the hope
that we could feel each and every day

that should inspire us to live
and never give up.

Truth is, if what we’re going through
hasn’t caused our heart to stop beating,

then neither should we.

We must continue
to love ourselves and love life.

In fact, the next time we’re faced
with an impossible situation

and we’re thinking about giving up,

we should place a hand over our heart,

be reminded that we have purpose,

and say to ourselves, “I’m possible.”

Thank you.

(Applause)