Remember when you could make a wish and somehow it happened to come true? I distinctly recall standing before a fountain with a shiny coin in my hand, the warm sunshine making the water sparkle as I thought about a wish I was going to make. The mere act of throwing the coin into the fountain was the same as a handshake to seal a deal. The fountain got the coin and somehow I’d get my wish. Of course at that age I was young enough to be wishing for cake for a snack or a trip to the zoo or something of that nature. Stuff my parents could handle.
When I was around 15 I made a different wish, much darker and thus no fountain or shiny coin was required. Just a soft whispered wish in the darkness of night with no actual expectation of the magic to work this time, rather a desperate hope that somehow what I wished for would just sort of happen. That wish, so much heavier, was not one my parents would have approved of or even wanted to hear. It was for me and me alone. And it didn’t’ happen because when you wish to make the pain stop in any way possible it lacks action. I remember during this trying time of odd aches and pains and doctors advising my parents that there really wasn’t anything wrong me that then surely there was no use in me saying anything. But did that mean that I was meant to suffer in silence; lost in some strange place of desperation to be believed, to be relived of the pain?
I also recall that somewhere along the journey that is life I asked for odd things for gifts, be it my birthday or Christmas. One year I asked for new knees. Another I asked for new hips. And then there was the period of time I asked to just not be in pain any more. Those gifts never happened. They were beyond the magic of a shiny coin, beyond the whispered desperate hopes that arise to your lips during the dark nights.
Wouldn’t it be nice to just toss a shiny coin back in a fountain and know that somehow, some way, your wish would come true, not matter how small (a slice of cake for example) or large (for lupus to cease to exist) the wish was? If only that option existed, I can think of a few things I’d wish into oblivion and a few more I’d wish to be more of a daily reality. But that place, that special magic, doesn’t exist just yet, so I guess I will just continue to work with my doctors and try to keep lupus mostly in check. Because Beloved doesn’t want to have to don a tutu and try-out for the wish fairy role, even if only to make me laugh.