All I Wish to Give Him

The birthday had arrived of someone close to me, someone I considered then my friend, my calming force, my ground. On that day of all days I pondered, how ever will I give him all the gifts he deserves, all that I wish to give him?

Back when I was a child I clearly remember wanting to give my parents so much, none of which was easily obtained or of which I could afford of course -- like a new 32' cabin cruiser for my dad or a brand new Cadillac for my mom. I would find pictures in magazines, clip them and paste them on to pretty colored paper, wrap them up and say, "If I could, I would give you...."

Not that I acknowledged this when I was young, but in retrospect I believe that I was trying to say that they deserved the best of everything, perhaps realizing that it was a little out of reach, or maybe more than what life would ever give them. I hope I didn't create a negative, making them realize all they didn't have -- maybe because of adopting me, or maybe because they sacrificed so much to be able to give ME what I wanted for Christmas or my birthday. It wasn't an effort to highlight lack -- in my heart I wanted to give my parents all that they ever desired, because I loved them *that* much.

That's what happens when you genuinely love someone. You want the best for him. No matter the fortune or blessings he has already received, there are dreams he holds dear, "what-ifs" he ponders, that once you know his heart you just want to give him because you believe that he is so extraordinary. Even if that means letting him go, to find those gifts alone.

So on that day I exposed my heart and made a list, of all I wished to ever be able to give him. When I originally wrote this letter, I wanted the world for him.

My Dear,

Since most of what you dream has to do with physical activities -- sports you love -- and you must have the physical ability to achieve those goals, the number one thing I would grant you if I had the power, is a pain-free body and easy breathing.


If I had the physical ability, I would pace you to a sub-22 hour 100-mile race, and to another 16 minute 5k race. I would make sure you qualified for the National Tri Championships, or the Boston Marathon again, whatever finish you desired.


If I had the fortune, I would pre-pay and guarantee every race registration you desired, all travel expenses paid, so that any monkey perched on your back would be knocked off vengefully.


If I had the influence, I would grant you a spot on a national race team, sponsored by the brand of your choice. You'd be the one answering the questions of newbies and in-awe trail girls.


If I had the resources, I would pay off your mortgage, so you'd never be tied to a structure financially again.


If I had the fortune, I would buy you out to an early retirement. The pilot I hired would be available at-will to fly you to any of your dream escapes.


If I were a builder, I would construct a walk-in closet in your home just for running shoes and gear, a super-sized rack to hold all of your bicycles -- most prominently the uniquely designed bikes of your choice, fit for impromptu adventure races or cross-country tours.


I would find you a large plot of land, hidden deep in the woods of a beautiful pacific northwest forest, and have built your vacation getaway. Few trees would be sacrificed in the process. The wood shop there would have ample space for building kayaks or canoes, ships of your dreams. I would conjure for you endless energy, so that your living hours would outnumber your sleeping hours 10-to-1. I would increase the number of hours in your day.


If I were the editor of your life history, I would lighten the hard times and sweeten even more the good.


If I could harness all the love and peace possible, I would gather it and pour it into your family, friends, neighbors and colleagues, so they all would meet you with Calm and Understanding, ridding your world of Loud, Nasty or Mean.


If I had a time machine I would magically dedicate one woman to you for the best 40 years of your life. Actually, make that 50. Together in one household you would raise your beautiful children.


If I had my way, you would never doubt love again.


I would pray that you have Happy Birthdays from now on, a gift in every day, somehow, some way.


If I had just one wish, I would wish this all -- and more -- for you.


I doubt you will ever understand what all this could have meant for you, had you held on to the greatest gift freely given to you. I loved you THAT much.