Getting My Wish

I arrived at Gate 30.  I departed from Gate 18.  Each was at the end of the terminal, the furthest possible walk from the security terminal. I'm well past asking for a wheelchair to take me between spaces in airports, but this was ridiculous.  I'd walked a mile before I found the exit.

This morning, on my way home, I walked through security and found Gate D18 right there... directly across the hall from the scanner machine.  I didn't have to walk at all.

I got my wish.

I don't think I ask for much, these days.  I'd like the sun to shine more often and I'd like the winter temperatures in Tucson to stay above freezing so the pipes would still send water to the showerhead.  I understand that I am not in control of the weather, but I'm talking about wishes, not practicalities.

I'd like people to pay attention to traffic lights and directional signs and not pull out of parking lots into oncoming traffic.  I'd like the roads to be paved and the construction project in my neighborhood to be finished.  I'm helpless in the first arena and marginally successful in the second; I have a lovely lady at the Department of Transportation who takes my calls and sympathizes with my complaints.  Sometimes, she is able to rectify small pieces of the problem.  When that happens, I'm able to smile; I've gotten my wish.

I have bigger wishes, too, of course.  Sensible gun regulations, adequate and available mental health care, and world peace are all on the list.  As a child, I thought grown-ups got what they wanted because they were bigger than I was.  At five, I thought height was what it was all about.  Perhaps that's still true; I'm small and most people are larger than I and I don't get everything I want when I want it even now.  But, our President is a tall man, and he's not getting much of what he wants these days, either.  I may have to reevaluate my initial premise.

Wishes are granted to terminally ill children by doers of good deeds.  Wishes are granted to Tinker Bell when the audience claps its hands.  Wishes are made over candles and hands clasped in prayer.  My wishes float around in my head, bumping against my cranium, reminding me of what I want and what I don't have.

I'm happier in the moment, not wishing, but doing.  I wish that Christina-Taylor were with me, but the Stroll and Roll brings her closer than I'd ever imagined it could.  I took that lesson and have expanded it, taking myself into schools and sharing the love.  It's not perfect, but it's a pretty close approximation.  It's the best I can do, the most I can have, the nearest thing to my wish being granted that reality will allow.

Perhaps I'd be better off sticking to the small things, the manageable things, the possible things.  Perhaps I should be happy that Gate D18 was right here this morning, happy that I didn't have to work up a sweat walking through the terminal.  Perhaps this is the wish that is granted to me today, the wish for which I should be grateful.

It's hard to give up longing for the big things, but wishing won't make it so.