Magic and Miracles

I often marvel at the magical and rather miraculous little life I live.

It is a simple life measured by small regularly occurring miracles such as good health, living in a safe/comfortable/affordable home (and country) which houses all of my needs/wants/desires. 

I have the ability to provide for myself and be self reliant. 

I am beyond grateful for the supportive community of family and friends.

I am content and at peace with where I am, who I am and where I think I'm headed.

I live in a magical fairy tale land where I create stories and happy endings to put the story-teller part of my mind at rest.

It is a wonderful little life I am living.

Then? I looked at the household products I reached for this morning:

MAGIC Eraser

MIRACLE Cloth

Can this stuff be bought? Maybe.

Whatever little things it takes to add a dash of magic and small miracles to your day, may you find just a few little magical moments as you navigate throughout the hard day in front of you.

May the force be with you!

The Things that "Stick"

My mind has been all over the map this morning as I rewind the tape of the weekend past, conversations and trains of thought that have led me to this post.

The small act of making myself a cup of coffee with as few wasted steps as possible led me down the garden path of the maze of memories interwoven into my being. 

I read the book "Cheaper by the Dozen" as a child. I remember the father character of the book being an efficiency expert and how the story wove his efficiency into the tale. It is one of those things that has stuck with me over the years. I recognize the part of me that became "efficient" after reading this book.

Oh, what an amazing world we live in when one can simply google "cheaper by the dozen book efficiency expert" to correlate what one thinks they remember, to Wikipedia - which in fact confirms my memory is not just a made up story in my mind. It is in fact, a fact.

I love when life gives me the opportunity to remember something I thought I forgot.

My aunt asks many questions that provide me with various opportunities to remember little things. "Do you remember living on the farm? Do you remember your dad farming? Do you remember ..." 

To keep myself entertained during our somewhat repetitive conversations, I find myself digging a little digger to refine and explain my answers. I have fond memories of taking supper out to the field during harvest. I remember the picnic basket Mom packed up, the feeling in the air, the memory of food tasting so much better because it came from that picnic basket. Then my memories took me to the time Dad showed us (I don't remember who I was with but I know there was someone with me) how to chaff the wheat, then chew on the kernels of wheat, to see if they were ready to harvest. We were at the bottom of the hill on our farm, by the grain bins. The memory is so vivid, I can almost remember the sky that day...

I spent the past weekend at "The Cute House" we have recently adopted. The house is furnished with history. The kitchen table with a history that goes back as far as my memories; a bench Dad made; an old stool Dad reinforced; the picnic basket (see above) currently holds various household hardware; my brother's old twin bed; not to mention the multitude of items I inherited from Mom's kitchen. Even the items from my home which have been donated to the Cute House have a story, because I don't need them due to what has been replaced from Mom's belongings (crystal wine glasses in my city home verses the dollar-store wine glasses which preceded them).

Memories. To have them. To hold onto them. To be able to retrieve them from the recesses of your mind or be triggered to recall them. Precious. The human brain is a miracle like no other. It is a precious commodity we tend to take for granted when it functions as expected.

The kitchen table on the far right side of this photo resides in my cozy little "home away from home" (that is me in the box, along with Mama Cat, which dates the picture back to the early 1960's)

The oh-so-special picnic basket, along with the potato salad Mom taught me how to make

It is amazing. The little things that "stick" as time goes on. I am grateful beyond words for the memories I have. So many good feelings are triggered. A history I am happy to recall.

It is sad to realize how many people are triggered by less than idyllic remembrances. The things that "stick" are not necessarily all good things. 

I am so very grateful the things that have stuck with me over the course of my life are predominantly warm and fuzzy. 

The Miracle of Life

As my sister-by-marriage and I were sitting waiting for Oprah to step on stage, our conversation was all over the map. We went from the inane to the serious and everything in between. Her brother had died just one day previous and he was never too far from our thoughts.

I retold a story she had heard before. The one about the time he borrowed $50.00 to buy me a birthday present and I ended up with a $5.00 pair of earrings. His explanation was that he had hoped to gamble with this money and pay back a larger previous loan, as well as get me a gift. I was lucky to end up with the earrings.

She nodded when I added "I think I have told you this before..." but I had one addition to the story I had not revealed previously. "I think that was the night our son was conceived...." I kept track of these things and according to my calculations, my birthday was the only "unsafe" day we took a chance on love. I thought this new information would add an upbeat spin to an old story as we rewound the years and talked of that which was light and easy during her brother's and my courtship and marriage.

Our conversation took off on a new direction and my story was soon forgotten.

Enter "Oprah!". Oprah is an incredible story teller and there is a reason behind every word she speaks. She talked about her existence and being born at the precise moment she was born, in the exact place she was born, to the parents who conceived her. The timing, the place, her mother and the way she was raised were all instrumental to Oprah becoming "Oprah!" - the celebrity who was up on the stage, talking about some of what she has learned by interviewing 37,000 people over the course of her television show.

Oprah then told us the odds of each and every one of us being born at the exact time, place and to the parents we have. There are so many factors to consider. The fact that our parents met at all. The fact that once meeting, all the stars were aligned at the precise moment in history they were, in order to make conceiving a child a remote possibility. Then you add in all the stuff one learns in science about the number of eggs and sperm and everything else involved in the technicalities of conception. Once conceived, so much can happen that could interfere with the chance of this baby ever being born.

There are millions of factors to consider and it is nothing short of a miracle that each and every one of us in existence due to all of these stars aligning. She gave us an exact statistic in the above equation. I didn't write it down but according to my Google sources, the odds of us being born at the exact time, place and circumstance we were born is about 1 in 400,000,000,000. We are ALL a miracle!!

I turned to my sister-in-law and simply said, "That was a pretty incredible birthday gift, wasn't it?"

So much in life is all in the way you look at it. I never once thought of the true gift I received that one fateful birthday ...

Charlotte's Web

The miracle of nature unfolded before our very eyes yesterday. It was a wonder to behold as we marvelled over the instinctive nature of the world around us.

My aunt and I were enjoying the beautiful day on the deck outside her apartment when I noticed a spider spinning a web from her upstairs neighbor's deck onto a planter on my aunt's deck railing. After we followed the spider making its way down, we watched it go back up again. Then down. Then up. Then down and across and up again. This busy little spider did this several times and then started skittering around the webs it had created.

"I think it's making a web!" I squealed in delight. We couldn't see the web from the deck but I stepped outside the deck onto the grass and could make it out. I am almost certain that industrious little spider created this web in its entirety while my aunt and I watched.

It never stopped. It went up, down, up, down, up and sideways, down and back; then around and around and around until its masterpiece was complete. Then it rested. It was still sleeping soundly in its web when I left.

You can't see the web in this video but this is when the spider was going around and around in its final laps of its construction.

You can just barely make out the web here. If you look upwards, you can barely see the contrast of the light threads of the web against the brown part of the balcony above.

I felt a kinship towards this busy little spider and named her "Charlotte", as she went about her business, building a web. Then patiently awaited the arrival nature's version of a SkiptheDishes delivery.

I stood and marvelled at the design, construction and end result of this spider's work. How did it map out where to brace its web as it spun its way to the next bracing point on the web? It is one thing to go "down", but to find its way across to the wind spinner that was hanging from the deck above? How does a spider defy gravity and spin a web in a horizontal position? Does it instinctively pace out the distance between braces? Does it plan ahead or does it just start spinning? And its ability to produce the required amount of "webbing" on demand?! Nature is amazing.

Watching a spider build a web. Rabbit spotting. Watching a crow watch our cat who was perched atop the play structure so he could watch birds in the neighbor's tree...

Ray (the cat atop the play structure) is watching the birds ... outside of this picture frame is a crow (perhaps it was a raven - it was at least as big as Ray), sitting in another neighbor's tree watching Ray. The circle of life (I'm glad they were all just "watching" and no one was harmed in the making of these memories).

Can I imagine a life where I have the time, desire and opportunity to watch nature reveal its miracles right before my eyes? I can sure try ...

Trust and Be Prepared to Be Amazed

I used to obsess about my finances.

I planned, I projected, I did my best to pay down debt, save and have a little "in case of emergency" fund. I budgeted and accounted for every single penny.

The more I counted my pennies, the more pennies I seemed to need.

I had every bill covered with little room left for the unexpected. The unexpected always happened. Where there is a car, a house and a family there are always surprises.

There seemed to be a direct correlation between the amount of energy I spent obsessing about money and the amount of money I felt I needed. There was never, ever, ever enough.

I don't know what shifted my perspective in my "worry to money ratio". It may have happened when I rid myself of five different accounts to budget for every contingency I could imagine. I amalgamated all of my savings with all of my debt and my enemies started living together under one roof. Surprisingly, they have lived quite well together.

Since that time, I have stopped "sweating the small stuff". When times are good, I sock away my money and pile it onto my debt. When times are lean, I borrow from that same debt sparingly.

Unfortunately I have had quite a few lean years in recent history.

Going back to school was the death of my finances but resuscitated me in so many ways.

The years when I attempted to redirect my career were the hardest years I can remember living but they taught me more than a formal education ever could have.

The leanest years of my life took and gave back to me, in proportion to each other. Mentally and financially.

I just went back to the archives of my financial history.

I have accumulated $17,107 more debt since my return to school. In that same stretch of history, my pension has grown by almost $50,000. My savings is an ever-changing number and has been depleted by almost $2,000 but the number that is in there now is more of a "static" number.

I went back further in time and I am aghast to see the years I felt the poorest, I had the least amount of debt and the most amount of savings. I guess counting every single penny did have its advantages.

Now that wasn't the direction I was headed when I started writing this post!

My point (which feels slightly moot at the moment) is that by lessening the energy I spend on worrying, I have found "things always work out in the end".

For each and every extra-curricular expense, I have found an unexpected windfall on the opposite end of the spending spectrum.

I planned a purely whimsical trip to see Dancing With the Stars in Las Vegas. The cost of this trip was simply absorbed by some unexpected gift money that had been tossed my way.

Recently I ordered some extra family history books for both my mom and dad's families. Surprisingly, I had some unexpected financial bonuses which equalled almost the exact amount of my book order.

As I considered the expense of a new computer verses the need, I hovered back and forth in a state of indecision for quite some time before letting my income tax refund (almost the exact amount of the new computer) make the decision for me.

This week, I took the plunge and booked flights and accommodations for a trip to see my uncle. I invited my mom along for the ride.

I planned this trip for all the right reasons and knew without a doubt I would find a way (or it would simply work out) that this would not cause my financial situation any undue hardship. What has transpired is beyond amazing.

My son just happened to need to buy a car without shopping for one. I just happened to have a spare one sitting on the driveway. He paid double my asking price but my price was enough to cover my trip. My trip is paid in full.

Add onto that equation, the fact that my mom overpaid me for doing her income tax. Add that total to the refund I will get for cancelling my car registration/insurance and not only do I have my ticket paid in full, but my mom's as well.

Me, the spendthrift in the family, throws my money around without a second thought when it comes to simply doing the right thing.

This trip was the right thing to do. I knew it without a doubt. I spent first and budgeted later. The end result is nothing short of amazing.

I was telling my cousin (a minister) of the miracle of my spending lately. I worry less and it always works out in the end, in the most unexpected ways. He spoke of a the "gift of provision" (law of provision??) and if we just relax and trust (in God) we are always provided for.

I am quite certain my cousin could speak more eloquently than me, but the long and short of it is (to me) "Trust, and you shall be amazed".

This line of thinking hasn't served me too well in the department of romance, but hey! Maybe it is because I didn't trust enough. Hmmm ... food for thought, for another day.

Life Hands Us What We Need...

How is it that life 'hands us what we need when we need it most'?

Does 'life' really happen that way or are small gifts placed before us each and every day? But when we are blindsided by all that is going on within our world, we simply cannot see outside of our own head at times?

Life continues to astound and amaze me. It is all in the little things.

Yesterday I took my daycare family out to a park to play. There was another daycare provider with her little 'family' of her own already there when we arrived.

We started talking immediately. We are from (about) the same generation so she immediately related with me as a 'grandma' kind of daycare provider. We spoke the same language from the start.

She has been in the daycare business for thirty five years and is starting to burn out a bit.

I felt that way when I walked away from my daycare five years ago but 'life' provided a little perspective for me so I could come at it with new life.

I still feel overwhelmed and question if I am the right person for this job. Daily. Sometimes more. But at the end of each day, I am grateful for this life I have created for myself and I know it is where I am most meant to be right now.

The kids provide me with inspiration and laughter when I need it the most. I love it when I hear my words turned back on me and they sound 'okay'.

Two days ago, I was so frustrated and I just need the day to be over. Then two days ago, this happened:

Apparently these guys are listening to me.

Whenever someone is crying or pouting or simply cranky, I tell them to go into the playroom and come out when they are happy. If they are crying for no real reason, I escort them to the playroom and tell them to come out when they are happy. When they wake up from their nap, they must be 'happy' before they can get up. "Happy" is our theme song around here and we dance to it often.

Anyway ...

Yesterday, I was feeling kind of grouchy and was quite likely pouting.

My little three-year-old looked at me and said, "Colleen, are you happy?" That simple statement turned my day around. I think my little girl was quietly suggesting I go into the 'time out' area until I came out happy!

Thanks! I needed that.

I told this little story to my 'new friend' at the park. She laughed out loud and told me I had made her day. 

I felt like I had been placed into this lady's life at just the right moment. I know I am overwhelmed with kid-talk and craving adult-conversation these days. I needed to talk to someone who was 'walking my walk' and understood where I was coming from. 

I believe we brought each other 'up' and our days were better because of it.

We have been going to all of the parks in and around our neighborhood all summer. I have not run into another 'daycare family' until yesterday. 

I really, really needed a lift and this encounter boosted me up and carried me through the day. I watched how she was with her kids and I aspired to be 'more' of who I want to be. Something tells me she received a little of what she gave, in return.

We exchanged names and phone numbers and hope to meet up again. Our children's ages correlate very nicely and I think some interaction with other kids would be good for each of our daycare charges. Adult interaction with someone who 'speaks my language' is a very welcome bonus. 

We seem to treat 'our kids' and 'our responsibilities' very similarly. We are a ten minute walk away from each other. 

I felt like I opened my eyes yesterday and 'there' she was.

The really weird (eerie-weird) part is, when we left the park we didn't part ways immediately. Our walk home was a parallel one for a short spell.

One minute, I looked behind us and my 'angel unaware' and her family-of-three was right behind us. The next minute, I looked again. They had vanished into thin air.

I asked my little three-year-old "Did you see those kids and that lady ... or did I just imagine them?" She confirmed my sanity, as she started to talk about this little 'daycare family' so I believe what I saw was real.

But it was such divine timing. A conversation with someone who I felt like I had known for years transpired when I needed it the most. It was almost surreal. Compounded by the fact they seemed to leave our day as quickly as they entered it.

I may have to call this lady - just to reassure myself and confirm that I did not make up this whole scenario.

Sometimes, the little things in life just seem too good to be true. 

Miracles Do Exist

I find myself eternally hopeful and enjoy the place where that hope comes from. Perhaps I have retained just a little bit of my childlike naivety and with it, that piece of wistful hope that miracles happen.

I went to visit my aunt on Sunday. She had been in the hospital just over a week when I saw her. To the best of my understanding, she was admitted due to internal bleeding. They had been unable to find the source of her bleeding. Through the course of running a myriad of tests to find out what was happening, her health continued to decline. The day before I went to visit her, she had decided to cease and desist all testing. They unhooked all IV's and she was willing to let nature take its course.

Her family said that almost immediately after having made this decision she started to perk up. She could eat whatever and whenever she wanted to. She wasn't attached to tubes and wires. She was free to rest and relax without the doctors and nurses continually prodding and testing.

She was surrounded by her family. She tired easily. She rested when she needed to rest. Her husband, her children and her grandchildren were at her side whenever she woke up. She has a strong faith and that certainly could not have hurt her as she waited for her body to give up or else start healing itself.

I called Mom after I had visited with her sister. I told her "If that is what faith gives a person ... I want some of that". I told Mom what I had heard from her family, what I had seen with my eyes and what I felt with my heart. It was a very peaceful conversation. 

Her doctors had told her that it could be two hours or it could be two days from the time that they unhooked all of the IV's and moniters, until her body gave up. 

After I spoke with Mom, she said that she had a strong feeling that 'it wouldn't be Monday'. I called Mom again Monday morning (to let her know that my cousin had tried to call her after she went to sleep Sunday night) and relayed all that my cousin had told me. It was pretty much what I had come to understand after my visit so there wasn't much new news.

The funny thing is when Mom actually said the words, "Well, miracles happen..." and for some reason, Mom didn't hush that quiet voice that she heard. She said she had a funny feeling that her sister just may be one of those miracles. I told Mom that I had actually thought exactly the same thing. 

The phone remained quiet on Tuesday. No news is good news, so they say. But in this case I just assumed that 'no news was simply no news'.  

Wednesday morning came and went. The phone remained blissfully silent. So I called my mom.

The first words Mom said? "There has been a miracle..."

My aunt's internal bleeding has stopped. She was strong enough to go back to the hospital in her home town. She is most definitely not out of the woods yet but she has overcome the odds and improved, despite the doctor's grim prognosis.

She refused a blood transfusion due to her religious beliefs. Her body started to shut down and she was physically unable to proceed with the testing that the doctors had ordered. She was willing to "let go and let God" and (as of this moment) she is better than she has been in a long time.

Suddenly, I am reaffirming my naive belief that miracles happen. Sometimes you simply have to let go of all of the safety nets and allow yourself to fall. You end up exactly where you are meant to be...

Image from http://www.mesmerizingquotes.com/

"I Feel Better Than Ever!"

These are the words that my mom said to me when I called her yesterday.

Six weeks. It took six weeks to get from 'there' (the onset new and more frightening symptoms) to 'here' (feeling better than she's felt the past year ... or ever, to quote her).

Almost eleven months. It took close to a year, to get from the initial symptom to where we are today. A vague symptom, that in retrospect seems obvious (after learning what we now know).

Almost a year ago, her diagnosis was 'inflammation of the middle ear'. When she went to another doctor a week or two later, the second opinion was 'vertigo'. In all actuality, it was her heart. Most likely, it was her heart all along (her medical file indicates this fact).

In five weeks, she went to a doctor or emergency room five times. In five weeks, she has undergone another five tests or assessments.

The medication that has made the difference, was perscribed five days after the latest developments of 'new' (probably not so much new, but simply more of what she had been feeling all along) symptoms.

One well timed trip to the ER has made all of the difference in the world. She has been dealing with this for almost a year. Each time she visited a doctor, I'm almost certain that they would take her vitals out of habit (wouldn't they?). But finally ... this one time, she was in the middle of an attack where they could pinpoint exactly what was going wrong.

Sometimes we are powerless in life. Other times, golden opportunities arise. If we are very, very lucky these opportunities can change a life.

I feel better than ever, too. It feels beyond wonderful to have our mom back to where she was before (only better)!

It Doesn't Hurt to Ask

I have found myself going out on a limb and simply asking for things that (once upon a time) I only dared to hope for.

How many times have I actively asked for what I want and hope for? I'm not talking about the 'big stuff' ... I'm talking about little things.

Things like asking to see I if I could book a bonus dance lesson. Impromptu get-togethers with friends that start with asking about the possibility of making it work. Things like wishing that we could fast track the waiting time for an appointment or test.

There are some big wishes that I have also fulfilled.

I asked about the possibilities when I chose parenthood over career. I asked for the impossible when I made an application for home repairs to a government program that was assisting low income earners. I asked for my job ... I asked questions that led to furthering my education. I stated my dream aloud when I said that I would love to attend a dance competition and doors were opened. I wished for a friend to join me on an Alaskan Cruise. And the list goes on ...

There have been so many doors that have opened for me ... simply because I asked.

My most recent miracles have occurred because I picked up the phone, dialed it and stated my most heartfelt desire aloud to someone who had the ability to help me. I asked if there was any possibility ... and we have have miraculously been granted three separate wishes.

Yesterday morning, I awoke in a state of helplessness. I felt that I was powerless. Circumstances were slipping out of our control and I didn't know what to do.

My instinct was to pick up the phone and call someone who could lead me down the right path. I just about allowed myself to be talked out of it, but I thought "What do I have to lose? I will ask and see what happens."

A small miracle happened. We are still powerless over the results of this 'miracle' ... but we are months ahead of where we would have been, had we simply accepted our fate and waited.

It never hurts to ask. Sometimes the answer is "No ... not yet." But there are times when the answer is, "Yes! We just had a cancellation ..."

Dad's life was saved too late. He stopped breathing. Help was on its way ... but it was too late.

Mom's life is precious and viable. We are working hard to preserve her health. One little miracle after another is helping us make that come true. Doors are opening and we are walking through them with her.

It's almost as if my quiet plea to my dad is coming true. I do not feel alone, as we walk through the unknown. I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder and a whisper in my ear that is telling me, "Just ask ..."

Nothing is Certain

"I'm sure we'll chat soon" were the words I wrote in an email Friday night. I sent off the email and thought to myself nothing is certain.

One innocent slip on the ice an a myriad of outcomes could have transpired. My youthful, vital and able bodied Middle Son slipped on the ice a few winters ago and broke a bone in his hand. That is pretty minor in the whole scheme of things but it translated to three months of unemployment and severe financial hardship.

Sitting at the wrong intersection at the wrong time, a friend was hit by a drunk driver. Her injuries led her down a path of recovery which (in the end) changed the direction of her life.

Two sisters driving down a familiar highway were hit by another car. One life was lost. The other life was forever altered.

A unique set of circumstances could bring you together with a person who needs a friend. A life could be saved by the right person being there at the right time. Life altering moments happen all of the time.

One minute life is as you know and expect it. The next could change your life forever.

Friday morning, my mom slipped on the ice and 'broke the fall' with her head. She went to the doctor to ensure no damage (other than the goose egg and small gash) was done. All precautions were taken. She spent the night at my brother's to ensure she wasn't alone for the 24 hours that followed. I talked to her yesterday and she sounds chipper, happy and as 'right as rain'.

As I was hearing the news of Mom's tumble, I couldn't help but think of all of the ways it could have gone wrong. All because she stepped out on her icy sidewalk to retrieve her newspaper.

These are the words that tumbled out of my fingertips yesterday morning:

"I'm sure I'll be talking to Mom later today. As I wrote that, I thought "Nothing is for sure ..." After Mom's tumble yesterday, today could easily been a completely different scenario. It makes you appreciate the small miracles that propel us from one day into the next."

Three Minutes Late

I almost forgot about my appointment to donate blood last night. I was leisurely clearing off the table for supper when I found the notification (that I had placed on the table on purpose yesterday morning) reminding me of my appointment.

I wolfed down my supper, hastily tidied the kitchen and I ran into a few snags as I tried racing out the door in time (this is nothing unusual for me, but I normally 'budget' for the five minutes it takes for me to get out the door).

Traffic was slow, so I made good time. I ran up to the building and the security guard was there to hold the door open to me. I thanked him and asked if he was ushering me in because I was late. His only concern was that I slow down so that I didn't slip on the ice.

Because I was three minutes late, I ended up waiting behind a new donor. Had I been on time, I would have sped through the checking in process and been quickly on my way.

Had I arrived five to ten minutes early (as normally would have), I wouldn't have been at that exact place at that exact time.

I ended up running into a couple that I know. And because all three of us were behind this new donor (which takes longer to go through the processes), we ended up having a nice, leisurely chat as we waited.

As I left the building an hour later, the security guard once again held the door open for me and said, "See? It didn't matter that you were late did it?" I replied that it was actually a good thing.

Sunday, a completely out of the ordinary set of circumstances brought me exactly where I needed to be to help a stranded young girl home.

A few days ago, a friend and I were emailing back and forth about a class that we were considering taking. It is really hard to pick up a 'voice' in an email at times, so I wasn't sure if my friend was really in a position to go forward with this or not. There was a high probability the classes could have been full. So we decided to take the plunge and just go ahead email our request to register for a class.

Long story short, the day we picked couldn't have been more perfect (due to the arrangements that she has to make to attend). Her mom had a better day yesterday (after several worrisome ones). And then we found out that our 'chosen' day had openings and our request had been accepted. All of the cards fell easily into place. And all we had to do was 'pick a day' ...

It's really rather amazing. Going with the flow of life often takes you exactly where you are meant to be. At the time you are meant to be there. These small coincidences are truly a miracle ...

The Car

I am not a car person. When I was a teen, I think I remember my dad asking me what kind of car I liked (this seems like an odd memory to have so I'm not sure if it's mine). But I do remember after being asked that question, I started looking at the cars around me. I finally decided that a Camaro was the car that caught my eye.

Since that time, I have had a 1965 Plymouth Fury; a Dodge van; another 1965 (Chevrolet??); a Ford Tempo; a (?) station wagon; another Ford Tempo; a few forgettable cars as I went through a stage of buying cars without the help of my brother-in-law-car-salesman. For the past 12 years, I have driven an Olds Achieva.

My wish list for a car has moved up a notch or two in the past 23 years. The first time my brother-in-law asked me what I wanted in a car I replied, "Four doors, a radio and reliable enough to get me back and forth to The City I Used to Live In".

It was quite some time after that, that I finally took notice of cars. A nice interior, good speakers (so you could crank up the radio), enough power to pass a car on the highway and no rust were features that I appreciated in the cars that followed.

I have bought a few cars from my brother-in-law ... each of them basically chosen for me. All I had to do was (take out a loan) sign a cheque and drive it home. My sister would give the car her nod of approval before my brother-in-law showed it to me. It's the way I like to shop for everything. Just go in and buy it without thinking.

My car has been very good to me the past 12 years. But it is nearing 17 years of age. It should be in a retirement home. But instead, it reliably takes me where ever I want and need to go. I've travelled a lot of miles in that car. It has seen me through many life events. I still like my car. My eyes don't wander. I am faithful.

It must be the fact that my car is aging, but my thoughts have been drifting towards the idea of having to find a replacement one day. I still haven't been looking at other cars ... just thinking.

Then I saw it. The car of my dreams. It drove right up in my driveway and I only saw the back end view of it. But I'm in lust.

Look at that view! That is all I needed to see ...

I am sometimes a major annoyance to my Middle Son. He has a truck and therefore he is the one I call when I need something larger than a suitcase (exaggeration here, but I'm sure this is the way he feels at times) hauled from Point A to Point B. When I saw what this car could do with all the seats folded down? I was in love.

I know nothing about these cars. I doubt I'd recognize one if it was staring me in the face. I only saw the rear view and I liked what I saw.

The reason I am writing about this today?

It's because I believe that my fairy godmother must read my blog. One day, I am going to have to go back through the archives and record all of my wishes that have come true.

I think this happens all of the time, but because a person doesn't normally write down their (many) meandering thoughts you don't realize how often it actually occurs.

But yesterday, I got a call from someone. This person has never called me before. It was in direct response to a recent blog. There is no way in the world that this person would have read what I wrote. Yet the phone call was as if they had. The conversation unfolded exactly the way I visualized it.

I believe that there is truly something to the idea of visualizing the way you want your life to unfold. I don't think the result is a Twilight Zone type of experience, but I do think that our subconscious thoughts are powerful. You draw experiences and results into your life by what you think, feel and believe.

After this conversation, I walked downstairs and declared to my Middle Son. "I believe that I will get the Matrix that I am dreaming of. Because all of my wishes are coming true."

Thus, Blog Fairy Godmother (or Father or Angel or Whom/What Ever You May Be) ... I am dreaming of driving a Matrix. I believe.

I Believe ...

I am told my true belief in Santa Claus comes from a time when my sister dressed up as The Big Man himself, and came right to our door. I saw Santa Claus with my own eyes and have had little reason to doubt his existence ever since.

Another time, I was rambling on to some friends and I told them (something to the effect of) that if I found a gift from Santa under my tree, that I would believe. Once again, my belief in Mr. Claus came true. True to form, my anonymous 'Santa' delivered a sock full of treats to my mailbox that Christmas.

I have many reasons to believe. The small miracles that unfold before me as I live my day to day life. The insurmountable road blocks that have made the impossible ... possible, as I forged my way into new territory at different turning points in my life.

Sometimes I know who my 'Santa' is ... other times he/she has been a nameless entity. I truly believe that there are some times that I haven't even realized that there has been an invisible force that has opened doors, kept me safe, guided me and rewarded me in ways that I haven't even truly acknowledged.

My most recent 'Santa Claus' (that I am aware of) made my wish of new dance shoes become a reality. It amazes me how these small miracles keep finding their way into my life.

There is something a little bit magical about the whole idea of not knowing. There is a frustration within the mystery, because you don't know who to thank or how to express your heartfelt amazement of such a gift. Because I didn't know who to thank, I told my story to many ... expressing my wonder and gratitude over and over. Surely, if I told everyone I knew about my Secret Santa the True Giver would hear my gratitude and know that their gift was received in the manner in which it was given and that I was grateful beyond words.

I sometimes sit back and wonder about the Pixie Dust that has been sprinkled over my life. How can so many good things happen to one person? How can the miracles keep revealing themselves to me? How many angels do I have watching over me?

To my angels that walk the earth and beyond ... thank you.