After I graduated from high school my parents sent me on a trip to Australia. I am sure that sounds wonderful and the trip and memories I made during my time there was, honestly it was more than that, it was magical. Still, it was a trip that should have been epic in other ways; a trip that if I had been mature enough, could have been an excellent and healthy stepping stone to jump off of and into a college career, a fresh start to my 20’s, the years that could have potentially defined the rest of my life.
Instead I was broken hearted about some silly boy from high school and I knew when I came home my parents would be leaving to go full time RV’ing (yes that is a thing, I know. I would rather fly or sail around the world, they chose the US and an RV, its called snow birding). I would have to get a job that would pay for my first apartment; there would be no luxury of living with them while I went to school and ‘found myself’ like so many of my friends. It felt like I was being thrown into the deep end of a pool I wasn’t ready for.
Many years, moons and deep ends later, I wish for so much. I wish I had done things, not done things, made better decisions, made scary decisions, let him be, been more kind to her, fostered this and left that.
If wishes were fishes…I’d like to think that all of my wishes about things in my past go somewhere cosmic. Like a universe where my soul is then free of the burden of that wish. Perhaps I have grown from these wishes, grown from having them. They do say Gold Fish will grow to the size of the bowl they are being kept in, I am not sure that if that is true but I know this is…this last wish. I will tell you this wish and then I would like it to go off into that universe because the weight of this wish, only a 3 year old wish holds more weight than any I have held in my 38 years.
The day before my Mother passed away she could not eat (well she hadn’t been eating all week) I boiled eggs, made her scrambled eggs, bought her watermelon, olives, made lemon water; she seemed to know what she needed but she could not eat any of it. This is of course sad on many levels but the worst part of the day was that she could not read. She was more than an avid reader, to say she loved the act of reading and writing is not doing her love for it justice. She was an artist, of many talents but she simply could not hold the book or focus her eyes to read. I have never watched anyone die, slowly or otherwise, I did not know or notice outwardly. My wish is this: that I took the time to lay in bed with her and read to her, one last time. To see her smile as she listened, prayed as I know she was. I wish I would have laid with her and told her another of my crazy experiences stories which always made her laugh, I wish I could have heard her laugh one last time and I wish I could have kissed her sweet cheek and said “Goodnight Mom, I love you”.
That is my wish, and now I must allow it to swim away as my heart hurts just by typing this. I will allow a piece of this wish to stay, in the form of another wish, that as you read this you will foster your wishes. Wishing for the past to be altered is folly. Wish for the future and make that wish come true.
-B
