If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. That is the way the saying goes.  Going by that reasoning I must be holding onto some finely-tooled leather reigns and racing through the woods under a starlit sky right about now.

I wish for clarity and brevity.  I wish for simplicity and strength.  I wish for resolve and repair.  I wish for whole-ness where there are pieces breaking off.  I wish for an answer but I don’t think I have even asked the question in the right way, let alone at all.

I simply wish.

Wishes are like prayers with less faith.

When I was little in stature and years alike, I was accustomed to prayers before bed.  They were usually said in bed and used the same structure each night, modeled after something my grandfather (missionary offspring and minister) devised.  It was not just said for comfort and love and to give a big “hello” to the man I pictured wearing brown and hanging out with sheep and children.  My siblings and I also used it to stall for more time with my parents or more time with our eyes open and the light on.  No sacrilege intended.

“God bless our happy home right here and all our loved ones far and near.  God bless…”   And then comes the listing of names; closest family first, stuffed animals and extend from there.  I think it ended “and God bless Jesus.  Amen.”  I’m fuzzy on the last part but undoubtedly will remember when I have already posted- since it is too late to call my sisters or mom for a phone-a-friend help on this one now.  I should say right now I don’t practice any religion in particular as an adult.  My family (husband and kids) celebrate Christian and Jewish holidays in a way that holds true to family tradition and tries to connect to culture before god.  God is up to the kids when they get there.  Although there will be a post on my blog about the kid to god connect-the-dots coming soon.

Modeling after my own parents, I started saying something to the kids each night without really thinking about it a while back.  I don’t remember starting it but I do remember it got longer periodically as I thought of a new sentence to add.

“I love you so much.  You are my best little (boy/girl.)  You will always be my little (girl/boy) and I will always be your mommy.  I will always do my best to love you and protect you.  You will always be loved and cared for and safe in this home and in this family.  Good night.”

A little longer than your standard “G’night Kiddo,” but it keeps me comforted and my wish is that it keeps them comforted as well.  It is familiar and patterned and I do not stray from the expected.  I wish for them to have faith in me that I will generally not go wildly veering off the road.  I know that I have had my moments of that with them already and there will be more, so a little belief in me now can only help.

What they don’t hear, and I don’t even know if my husband hears, is what I say when I check on them before I go to bed each night.  They are lying in bed, sweaty foreheads and feet dangling off bedsides.  I lay my hand to their head and whisper.

“I love you so much.  You are my best little (boy/girl).  You will always be my little (girl/boy) and I will always be your mommy.  I will always do my best to love you and protect you.  You will always be loved and cared for and safe in this home and in this family…”

Then I lean in closely as if there were someone around who was eavesdropping.

“May god bless you and keep you tonight, this night and every night hereafter.  I love you.”

I start with statements and facts, promises of what I hope to be able to do and what I know I can do. Then when it is darkest and the house is quiet, I end with a wish or prayer.  That is the best I can do and it is a system I tend to apply to a lot of things in my life.

I am trying to apply it now, to the moment, the day, the week, however long I need to.

So, things are sometimes hard right now, even when I am happy and the ever-popular psychiatric euphemism of “doing well.”   There are always an abundance of things I wish I could say and can’t or won’t.  Even, maybe especially, here.  There are always times when a t-shirt announcing my situation or state of mind would feel cozier.  I can try to muddle through this, well, mud that is bogging me down.  I can try to hold strong for those who need me and bare my weaknesses for those who can take it. I can look for comfort in cooking and falling leaves.

My wish or my prayer is that writing about how I can’t be clear or specific in my writing, but have things to share, will help me feel better.  I think I might even be writing with almost total selfishness for the first time here.  Not that I don’t want someone to feel better or connected or like they can reach out- please wish I may, wish I might, that even my selfish and disorganized, devolving writing could be so useful- that I could be a voice in the dark so powerful!  I am writing because I want to feel differently than I do right now.  I wish I could make it happen as instantly as the letters appear on the screen.

I wish I were a beggar with a horse as fast as lightning with legs that never tired.  Tonight, this night and every night hereafter.