All I want for christmas is…
How many times it has been said.
A dad. A job. Love. A house. A promotion. A raise. A miraculous remission. Those skates. That bike. A pair of shoes for my daughter so she doesn’t have to walk barefoot to school. For the war to end. For that bastard to die.
I, too, have said it from time to time. Not every christmas. Most years, I had everything I needed. It seemed ungrateful to ask for more.
As this year’s christmas approaches, I sure have a few things I wish for. [All I want for christmas is] For this stupid farce of a life to end, for example.
Fine. [All I want for christmas is] A place of my own?
Today, I woke up at one place but am at a different one now. The fourth place in the last seven days. Here I am, with my laptop, my backpack, my cane, and a little suitcase, the carry-on type. That has been my life in the last seven days. Come Tuesday, I change places again.
It would certainly be really nice to have my own place. Having my own place means being reunited with Jay. Which is another thing I could wish for. [All I want for christmas is] to have Jay by my side again.
I could go crazy and wish something extravagant like [All I want for christmas is] to be allowed to cross the border so I can get to Lansingland.
But I might as well be wishing for the proverbial pot of gold. A compassionate, not entitled border agent? No way!
But really, [All I want for christmas is] to have little Satchie back. To know she is safe, fed and warm. To give her a big hug until she gets mad at me and asks to be let down in that endearing way of hers.
Is that too much to ask?
Well, of course it is, you idiot. When has life been nice to you?