Thursday, April 22, 2010

wish list





Here is a shiny copper penny to toss into the deepest parts of a mossy well.

Here is a lost cat whisker, tiny flexible fairy wand for your mind-wrinkled hopes.

Here is a flickering meteor, that smudge of stardust on the night sky.

Here is a wishbone, an eyelash, the season's first bluejay----





Make a wish.






But not that kind of wish.





Wish for the impossible, the improbable, the unlikely. Wish for:






. A hazelnut orchard, a quiet day, a thick blanket--- and being 8-years-old with nothing to worry about.



. Waking up to two fuzzy purring cats when I was 27 and could sleep in until noon on a Saturday.




. The time and space to do the deep-reading I did as a 12-year-old. Laying on my parents' bed, sitting at the brown kitchen table, basking in the circle of light in our family room.



. Books culled from this source. And the fresh mind of a 10-year-old, reading A Wrinkle in Time for the first time.


. My sixteen-year-old hips.


. An entire night to enjoy the feeling of Chip's skin beneath my fingertips (this, from days early in our marriage when our biggest worry was what movie to see on Saturday afternoon and making sure we weren't late to work).


. Just a few minutes with an Alice just hours old, her milk-soft breath on my face.


. This is what I'm wishing for: a pause button for life's brightest moments, the ability to go back to a memory in feeling and sense and everything that matters. The recollection kept so shiny you can see your face reflected in the surface.






What do you wish for?

5 comments:

Midnight Rambler said...

Once again, another beautiful post. Thank you!! I too wish for my 16-year-old hips (and the chance to go back and tell that 16-year-old self that she was so money she had no idea how money she was!). As for the rest, methinks this might be a good blog post ... or perhaps a contest for the next GYMBOA winner (still racking my brain trying to come up with a contest idea--oh, the pressure!).

tearese said...

that orchard was beautiful! I love those. I loved this post. Whenever I think of all the moments that I miss, I realize I didn't appreciate them then. Then I wonder what I am missing right now that I won't realize till later?

Bethsix said...

Beautiful, of course. And reminds me of a post I read by Catherine Newman WAY back in the day, around 2002. I wonder if I could find it...

Spadoman said...

As I age, the memories get stronger. As I have to stop doing some of the things I used to be able to do, I have to rely on memory. I can see the visions of things, but the physical feeling is gone, the emotion not quite as powerful as living the experience. Still, the memories are there and I relish them so.
My Grandchildren are old enough now to jave memories we share. They bring them to life.
And you know, Mrs. Spadoman's hips look the same to me as when we met, (she was 17).

Peace.

wandering nana said...

I posted mine already last week. But, I wish I could be with my child and take away the pain and trial she has had to endure in this life. I worry that she will not get to experience the joys she has brought to me with her own daughter. I worry and wish that her life had been different. But I know she is strong and won't let this bump pull her down... she wants to take her children to play in the park.