skip to main |
skip to sidebar
What are you so interested in/longing for, like this little boy? Is it your family? Wealth? Your lost youth? Your skinniness? (Oh how I wish I were as thin, as when I was a teenager, and though I was fat.) What do you long for, wish for, hope and pray for?
I hope you can find peace and fulfillment for whatever it is.
One of the things I long for--almost every day--is my mom. To have that wish fulfilled I'd have to die. I'm putting that wish on hold for a while.
Can you achieve your longings-for-wish by something you can do?
So do it.
I will too.
My New Year's resolutions this year are: Live so I have no regrets and learn to really listen to the still small voice (the whisperings of the Holy Ghost.)
PS This little boy (our Grandson, William) was watching for his dad, who was packing the car to go home--they had been here for 4 days over the Christmas holiday. William would not leave his post. (He even had a water bottle in case the wait was long.) I don't know if he thought his dad would disappear if he left the door or not, but he was faithful to the end.
Then they loaded everyone in the car--Mom, Dad, William, Emmett and two dogs--and left.
I cried.
T
his blog post is dedicated to Terri, whose mother died this week.
This came in an email today. I'm sorry I can't give credit to the originator. Here it is:
Recently I overheard a Father and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure.
Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the Father said, 'I love you, and I wish you enough.'
The daughter replied, 'Dad, our life together has been more than enough.. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Dad.'
They kissed and the daughter left. The Father walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, 'Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?'
'Yes, I have,' I replied. 'Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?'.
'I am old, and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral,' he said.
'When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I wish you enough.' May I ask what that means?'
He began to smile. 'That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone...' He paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail, and he smiled even more.. 'When we said, 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them..' Then turning toward me, he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.
I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.
