I got up this morning and 'did' the birds, then decided to eat something before I had my coffee. Normally coffee IS the breakfast, but I was stalling whilst I mulled this post over, because it will be a little bit of a departure from the 'normal' trainwreck you come here each morning to crane your neck at. (Don't worry. I know this blog is not pretty. It's just human instinct to want to see what I stepped in today. No one knows you were here.)
Anyway, I had my half a box bowlful of Lucky Charms (the REAL ones that come in a box, not that generic bagged crap) and am sitting here feeling all magically delicious, so I guess I am just going hit you with this like I was whacking you on the head with my shillelagh. I have my hand out today, folks.
This carefully constructed town I've come to think of as Blogsville is populated with the most wonderful people. I've 'met' so many people with so many stories who have graciously invited me into their heads, and I feel close to them, in some ways closer than I do to people I interact with every day in the flesh. One of those people has a particularly soft place in my heart because her story could so very easily be mine, or yours, and she tells it with such dignity and grace that you would be hard pressed most of the time to know she is suffering. Her name is Lisa.
You know how you always hear about the Make a Wish foundation, which grants children with life threatening illnesses a 'dying' wish? Why just kids? This is MY CHRISTMAS WISH. Ya'll, I want so badly for all of us here today to put on our tiaras, get out our magic wands, and play fairy godmother for a day. Lisa's birthday falls three days after Christmas, and she wants to LIVE it up this year. She has linked her Christmas/Birthday Amazon wish list to this post, and if you have enough to eat this year, and are not fighting for YOUR life, I sure wish you would look it over and see if there isn't some little way you can send her some love from Blogsville.
Most of her desires are simple ones, considering the complexities of her very challenging life, and won't cost you more than you waste on a couple of magazines-in the grand scheme of things, you won't miss it, and it might make a world of difference to her to know we are thinking of her and wishing her well. I wouldn't ask for myself, but I'm asking you for her. Please be generous.
Lagniappe:
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