(Written while in treatment- November 30, 2014)
Yesterday I had a touching empathy session with a dear friend of mine. Before we ended our chat, she wished me well and her exact words were “God bless you with all your wishes and even more than you can ever imagine.”
At that moment when I read her message, I felt Serendipity graciously came in. Serendipity, a fortunate happenstance, a pleasant surprise. Where the author, Horace Walpole, coined the term was from the story of The Three Princes of Serendip- a story where they continuously found discoveries by accidents, of things that they were not in search of. That moment when I read my friend’s line was a moment of serendipity.
In that instant I asked myself, what is my wish? A wish that is more than I can ever imagine? I have never explored that question in my mind fully but the answer came as swiftly as the questions were asked in my mind. It was like a switch being turned on and the light quickly filled the darkness in the room.
I don’t have to wish for it.
It is already granted.
I have received the gift of presence.
Each day I am grateful for the moments that I can share with those I love and cherish.
Each day I am reminded that “I am here”, “I am present”, “I am alive”.
Each day I am reminded that I can breathe in and breathe out.
Each day I am reminded that I am still taking part and moving towards my purpose.
Each day I am grateful for this life I have and of what I can give back.
Having a loving and supportive husband, two wonderful and empathic children, a home to call our palace, family members who keeps us in their hearts and loving friends near and far who treats us as family — those are more than I can imagine. To be utterly blessed, blissfully loved and graciously cared for, what is there to imagine to wish for?
Perhaps a plea to the Universe can still be added.
That the Divine Spirit can keep me and my loved ones in her keep for as long as our stories can be connected.
That our lives will be entwined long enough to hold memories to last a lifetime. Long enough to grow old and gray with my husband, long enough to see the children as adults, long enough to see grandchildren in the picture.
I keep these longings not from a well of deep sorrow. But from a well of deep faith. That everything will be alright.
But these are longings for a future. For now I have my greatest wish. I am here. I am present. I am alive.
