Wishes Granted Daily

My friend Kendra and I saw necklaces like this one at the Rose Bowl Flea Market a few months ago and had to have them.  Ours are cooler, I think, with the golden wishbones hanging from a thin string, much like the ones that hold wish bracelets together.  That's probably why I wanted it so badly; I thought that if I made a wish on it, then when the string finally gave way, I'd get my wish.  Like honking your horn or holding your breath in a tunnel or blowing out birthday candles.  Superstitious, but still: I made a wish when I put it on in June. 

My wish?  To travel.

Now, I knew that I'd be traveling to Europe in the summertime, a trip that was marvelous beyond words.  But I suppose I was hoping for another Italy trip, or even a weekend jaunt to San Diego. I get greedy like that.  I love to travel, sometimes just for the sense of "home" that it provides when you return.

The other day, I remembered this wish and had to smile at all my fortune: I have several trips ahead of me this year, starting with this weekend's quick getaway in Orange County for a family wedding.  There's a Christmas gathering at my parents' place in Texas and an unexpected journey to Italy.  We made plans to go to Mexico for my cousin's wedding in May and will return to Maui for my 40th next summer.  On top of all of that, I received a phone call from my favorite radio station, KCRW, telling me that my name was chosen in their sweepstakes.  My prize?  A trip to Hong Kong!

I talked to a friend the other day who is pregnant with her first baby and she said, "Rub some of that good luck on me."  I told her that I would, but that she's already got it.  A baby is a journey in itself.  And, in that respect, I've been on three parallel journeys with my girls for the past decade - and those are far more exciting and exotic than taking a plane ride anywhere else. 

But the wishing... Is that as important as the granted wish?  I'm thinking that it just might be.  The wishing feels like stirring up stardust, and the granted wishes feel like gold sprinkles on top of life's buttercream frosting.