when i was five i asked santa for a tonka truck. he brought me two: a shiny yellow dump truck and an orange cement truck.
when i was eight i asked santa for roller skates. i got the metal kind that fit over my shoes. they came with (more)a key so that i could adjust them to my foot size. i swear, i wore those skates until i was thirteen.
when i was thirteen i wanted a curling iron. i got a full salon set - a curling iron with two sized barrels, a hair dryer with five adapters, a set of three brushes and two combs. i didn't even know how to use it all.
santa was good to me and i always took him for granted.
i was thirty two when i asked again. it had been a sleepless year. a year of red eyes and why me, why him. a year of coming up empty and of not letting go. i asked santa for my son to see the new year. in my mind, i begged him. i had run out of options. childhood leukemia: prognosis fair - "its the 21st century after all, they've made advancements in medicine. chances are good if you catch it soon enough," i was told. we hadn't been the fastest on the block, but still.
my son asked santa for a hummingbird so i installed a feeder outside his hospital window and we watched and waited. i told him we couldn't cage one and, with the infinite wisdom of a dying four year old, he understood.
its january 3rd and i am holding hands with him now. we are looking out the window. his hand is soft and warm. he laughs. i hold my breath.
today i take nothing for granted.(less)
So my friend believes in the most ridiculous fairy tales. On her way home from school, she picks up any frog she finds and kisses them, searching for her prince. She owns voodoo dolls that look oddly familiar and speaks to ghosts that she believes are there. She also(more) waits for the fairies to help the flowers and grows garlic around her house.
I asked her about it one day. I said, "You just about believe in everything, don't you?"