The worst wish

This blog is for all the Mummies and Daddies who ever made a wish for their babies. This is a blog for all the Mummies and Daddies whose child developed a Serious or Chronic illness like me. I know it doesn’t always seem it, but I promise you;

One way or another, we are going to be ok

Tonight I was out at dinner with my Mum and Dad. It was just the three of us. Mum and Dad laughed over their shared need for glasses, and fell in love all over again. Long strands of blonde stuck to my siren lips, and I stifled my crackling chest as my eyes met with the defined chest of the waiter. Baby brothers were living their lives in another part of town, and strangely, life was beautifully simple.

Dad commented about how our family has now reached it’s next stage, where my brothers and I are growing up, gaining independence, and beginning to live our own separate lives while Mum and Dad stand in the background and guide us in the right direction.

He was proud, and his voice caught against the scratch of his jumper. It was what he didnt’ say that spoke louder.

This time a few years ago, I had to cut up your food for you, and lift the fork to your mouth.

This time, not so long ago, we ate in the hospital cafeteria; A restaurant of tragedy.

This time not so long ago, we were told that there wouldn’t be a today.

As he spoke, and as we all pretended that our lips did not tremble, I caught sight of another young family. Mummy, Daddy and baby boy. It was his first birthday. The boy sat, cheeks full with gurgle. Daddy stared at the Mummy, and as their world blew out a single candle on a single cupcake, their lips grasped at one another. Life wrapped them in it’s arms, and they held on tight.

I saw them make a wish.

And I know what they wished for; It was for the same things that my parents wished for me, nineteen years ago.

There would be requests and faith placed in happiness and health, love and life. I wondered at their specifics.

Dear God, may all his dreams come true.

Dear world, may he never lay in the gutter, veins pierced and pupils shot.

. Oh life, do not break his heart, and fill it instead.

Dear genetics, let him be healthy. That’s all we ask.

For, as long as he is happy and healthy, nothing else will matter. 

And I know that my Mum and Dad are hurting. I know that they lay awake, recounting with the stars. Did we not ask enough? Did we forget to say please? Were we too pushy; did we ask too much?

And it remains the unspoken. I ask that the truth whispers to them at night, that the wind may carry my secrets, and fill them with peace.

Daddy, I know that you wished for a man to love me. I know you wished that he would work hard and fill my home with daisy chains. But Daddy, don’t you see? A man is going to love me. He will work just as hard as you to keep me alive. He will fill my IV’s with daisies, and my heart will fit his.

Daddy, don’t you see? He will be more incredible than you ever wished for.

Mummy, I know that you wanted me to be happy. A smile in my step, and laughter in my heart; this is how you prayed. And I know that its hard to see. I know that when I cry, and when I lay in my own blood, that I forget to smile. But Mummy, know how happy this world makes me. I sleep in the sunshine, and I use Golden Retrievers as pillows. I dance to the beat of my bones, and I fill each breath with raucous cries.

Mummy, don’t you hear? Don’t you hear that I laugh even more loudly than you prayed.

Daddy, I know you asked me to be clever. I know that you asked that I would reach career heights of dizzying proportions. And sometimes I see you cry when you mow the lawn. You cry because I am broken on the couch, and not in a lecture theatre. And Daddy, I know that you are ok with me taking calendars longer than I would have. But you are scared; you are scared that I am not ok with it.

Daddy, don’t you see? I am ok with vomiting inbetween class; it means that I will be a better nurse. So Daddy, do not cry.

And Mummy, I know that you asked the God’s for my life to be easy, and without pain. For peace to take it’s place, with a shadow of luck. And I know that for the past six years, your heart has screamed louder than my body. I know that when I was dying, you were too. Sometimes I hear you cry, when you think that the morphine has taken me. You cry, because you are scared that I will die. And you cry because my body breaks and bleeds. You cry because I am not invited to the parties, and you cry because I cannot run.

But Mummy, don’t you see? The reason that I smile is because I cry. The reason I am strong is because I am so very weak. The reason that I can overcome the worst, is because I never had the best.

The reason that I am alive is because I should be dead.

And the reason that I am happy is because I shouldn’t be.

So Mummies and Daddies, make your wishes and say your prayers. Ask for health and for love, for light and for life.

But tonight when you blow out the candles, and when you tuck your baby into bed, just wish that one day, they will be as happy and lucky as me.

Because the truth is, the wishes that don’t come true turn out to be the greatest wishes of them all.


2 thoughts on “The worst wish

  1. Families are in such a vulnerable position and my heart goes out to them. I have a favourite quote from my sisters keeper that is a little relevant “I don’t mind this disease killing me but it is killing my family too”. This resonates with me so much and i feel it every single day. Whilst it might be “the worst wish” – I feel sorry for them, because really they are none the wiser.

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