"Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight."
I was putting away gifts I received throughout the festive season of Christmas. Yes I do know it is much overdue. Just that there was a pile of opened pressies sitting in the corner of my room screaming "PUT US AWAY WOMAN!" Procrastinator number one I tell you.
By the way, I received a Wishbone necklace as a gift from a dear friend of mine for Christmas. Which kind of explains the title in a way and the rest of the entry. I really love it. Here's why.
(My dear and cherished friends and loved ones reading this please do not pick a bone {no pun intended} and misconstrue my intent to speak about this particular gift. I love you all the same, gifts included, and I know they all come from the deepest cushiest crevice of your big big heart. You know how random I can be so this is just me being whimsically random..whatever that means)
My little silver reminder and lucky charm!
So yes, back. Not just because it's pretty or the fact that I've been eyeing it on RedEnvelope.com for a while now. Well, I'm not going to lie and say it's not pretty la. It is indeed. But more so because of the meaning it holds for me.
When I was younger, mummy and daddy used to buy this salt-baked chicken (yummy!), a loaf of Gardenia bread and canned drinks. Then us the Simon family used to head down to MacRitchie Reservoir occasionally for picnics, usually on Sundays because every Sunday was 'family day' back then. We'd pick a spot and begin attacking the chicken with our fingers and chowing it down. Never wash hands....Eeeyer. Yes, just like that, on some grassy knoll getting our little fingers and greedy mouths all greased up. But the highlight of tearing the delicious chicken apart and stuffing our faces, is the moment the 'wishbone' starts to peek out from beneath the mess of flesh under our watchful eyes. Since there were 3 of us sisters then (before my brother Kevin was born), and only 2 spots to have a go at the wishbone, we usually gave up our spot if we were feeling like good little children, if not then fight for it la. So as you all probably already know, two people make a wish and break apart a wishbone and the one that gets the bigger half gets their wish fulfilled.
You: "What? You mean you silly children and gazillions of silly adults out there in the world actually believe that wishing on the bigger half of some bird's fused clavicle bone resembling the letter 'Y' actually works? Rubbish..." Well we did, and to this day I still do.
Goodbye salt-baked chickens, Hello wishes in waiting.
Had us poor children only known...
I guess what I'm trying to get at, is that every time I see a wishbone, it transports me back to those days with my sisters, daddy and mummy sitting down sharing a simple meal together... That memory and the connotations the wishbone carries make it special to me. It is mostly the child in me that believes in wishes being granted and dreams becoming reality. And at this point of my almost-adult-life, after experiencing and witnessing not just my own but other's pain, helplessness, injustice, disappointments, among many other awful things, it is so important to be reminded of hope and possibility. I hope the child in me never dies.
By the way, I received a Wishbone necklace as a gift from a dear friend of mine for Christmas. Which kind of explains the title in a way and the rest of the entry. I really love it. Here's why.
(My dear and cherished friends and loved ones reading this please do not pick a bone {no pun intended} and misconstrue my intent to speak about this particular gift. I love you all the same, gifts included, and I know they all come from the deepest cushiest crevice of your big big heart. You know how random I can be so this is just me being whimsically random..whatever that means)
My little silver reminder and lucky charm!So yes, back. Not just because it's pretty or the fact that I've been eyeing it on RedEnvelope.com for a while now. Well, I'm not going to lie and say it's not pretty la. It is indeed. But more so because of the meaning it holds for me.
When I was younger, mummy and daddy used to buy this salt-baked chicken (yummy!), a loaf of Gardenia bread and canned drinks. Then us the Simon family used to head down to MacRitchie Reservoir occasionally for picnics, usually on Sundays because every Sunday was 'family day' back then. We'd pick a spot and begin attacking the chicken with our fingers and chowing it down. Never wash hands....Eeeyer. Yes, just like that, on some grassy knoll getting our little fingers and greedy mouths all greased up. But the highlight of tearing the delicious chicken apart and stuffing our faces, is the moment the 'wishbone' starts to peek out from beneath the mess of flesh under our watchful eyes. Since there were 3 of us sisters then (before my brother Kevin was born), and only 2 spots to have a go at the wishbone, we usually gave up our spot if we were feeling like good little children, if not then fight for it la. So as you all probably already know, two people make a wish and break apart a wishbone and the one that gets the bigger half gets their wish fulfilled.
You: "What? You mean you silly children and gazillions of silly adults out there in the world actually believe that wishing on the bigger half of some bird's fused clavicle bone resembling the letter 'Y' actually works? Rubbish..." Well we did, and to this day I still do.
Goodbye salt-baked chickens, Hello wishes in waiting.Had us poor children only known...
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