If I Could Make One Wish

We’ve all heard stories about wishes coming true leading to misfortune and doom. But what if we wish for something to happen in the future? If there’s no monkey’s paw involved, we can at least hope, right?

This week’s Finish the Sentence Friday prompt is “If I could have a conversation with anybody, it’d be…” I thought about people I admire, and friends I don’t get enough time with. Really though, the one conversation I want above all others is summed up in a post I wrote almost seven years ago, called “The Year 2059.”

This week’s post is mostly a re-write of that one. If I could make one wish, it’s to have a conversation with my grown son. To tell his children about him and our life.

If I Could Make One Wish

I’ll be almost 91 years old after celebrating Tucker’s 50^th birthday with him. I wish that I’m able to tell his children – my grandchildren – about how, once, many years ago, their daddy called airplanes “ninees.” I want to infuse their smiles with laughter and awe and I want them to ask for more stories about their daddy when he was still my young little boy.

I want to tell them about how we didn’t have cell phones or the Internet when I was their age. They’ll think I’m fibbing when I tell stories about trying to refold paper maps.

Seated in the Grandma Chair, perhaps with a blanket around my legs because I’ll get cold those days, I wish to see grandchildren giggle and vie for my attention.

I want to see them get sleepy by my feet while my son’s amazing wife brings me a hot cup of tea, or a glass of wine, depending on the occasion.

I Wish I’ll Be Able To Talk To My Grown Son In Many Years

After they’re in bed, my greatest wish is to talk to then-Tucker. To see him living a full life filled with love, children, and meaningful everythings. Laughter. While I hope we’ll always be close, I know that jobs and life get in the way, and I wish he’ll know how much he’s loved. How much he’s always been loved.

Saying “Happy Birthday!” on his 50^th while he rolls his eyes at me is my greatest wish. Being there. Blowing out a candle with him, wishing him the same fulfillment and pride in watching his own children grow up that I celebrated with him.

I want him to know how much he made me better. Made everything better.  And I want him to know that whether he is a grocery bagger or an engineer, that I am blessed, beyond all of the beyonds, to be his mom.

If I Could Make One Wish

Today, if I could make one wish, it’s to be alive and with my then-grown son in the year 2059. To remind him that of the most important moments mattered more because of him. Maybe, we’ll talk about the ways he chose to change the world.

If I could make one wish, it’s to have a sweet celebration and conversation with my grown son in the future.

If you could make one wish, what would it be?

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This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post, with the prompt “If I could have a conversation with anybody, it’d be…”