Friday, 2 December 2016

Blogmas #2 | Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

                    My wishes to you this year are simple ones, not materialistic but come from the heart. When I was a little girl I dreamed of the presents I would wake up to on Christmas morning, every year I asked for a new bike, and every year I got one. Whenever there was a new Game Boy out I would ask for it, and surely enough I would get it. The amount of presents mattered to me more than anything, and what the brown boxes and sacks contained was also super important. When I was younger, I was selfish I was a child and an only child at that, of course I was selfish, no one I knew was ill, or suffering with a mental illness or broken. I was just a child.

When my sister came along, I got less and less, I hated that she was spoiled and even though I was just as equally, I felt like I was left out on the sidelines. I had to share my Christmas with her from that point onward, the photographs and videotapes would contain not one smiling child but two, and I hated it. As we grew I resented her even more, for having to share my Christmas Eve and Day, all the traditions all, the surprises were for not one, but two little girls and I despised it. I was just a child.

All those years of being selfish for toys and wanting more presents than my sister and wanting better presents than those in my school finally changed when all of a sudden...I lost my auntie. All of those Christmas mornings wondering what my Auntie Mandy could have possible bought me had come to a stop, when I realised there was one less present under the tree. I was not saddened by the loss of a present, but by the loss of the person who should have given it.

Just like a teenager changes their phase I changed my perspective on Christmas Day, I still marvelled at what lay inside the packages under the tree and began to withdraw into my selfish ways when history repeated itself, I lost my great grandmother. And then after that my uncle. And then a few years later both of my grandfathers were diagnosed with terminal diseases, that would eventually take them away from me too.

When I was younger my letter to you would normally contain lists and lists of presents I wanted and how many I wanted and why I thought I deserved them. letter to you is quite simple.

Dear St Nicholas, this year I am an adult, I do not wish for presents, I do not wish for other people to get materialistic presents. This year I wish for my family to have a happy Christmas, a loving Christmas, filled with laughter and joy and love and peace. I wish for that one day that Cancer didn't exist, that disease didn't exist and the word terminal didn't exist. I wish to feel the love and presence of all those I have lost, including the pets that I loved so dearly who had to pass over the rainbow bridge. Could you bring them all back, for one day not in physical form but in spirit?
I wish for everyone suffering with these diseases to get one day with their families where they can be pain free and smile. For a disabled child to walk for the first time, for a shelter dog to get a loving home, for the elderly who live alone to be asked to join a family for Christmas dinner. For the world, just for one day - to be free of the cruelties and hardships society has put onto them.

This is the one statement in my letter where I may have to be a little selfish but could you please make it so my Bampi is completely pain free? and not just for Christmas but at all times. He is my rock and he has battled through enough, just let him live without worry of pain, he is a good man and doesn't deserve what he has. He's my Bampi....I'm not a child any more, but I need him.

As the years have gone by I have realised that I need my family more than 'things' -  no matter how big someone's house is they may not have anyone to share it with. At least I can say that spending time with the people I love is more important to me than anything. No matter how much I despised my sister, now I couldn't imagine my life without her, I look at her and I see myself, only a better version of myself and she is the reason I do what I do. 

So Santa, it's your choice but before you say no I would like to say that I would give up everything I had every Christmas if it even meant adding just one more day onto the lives of everyone I may lose. Your choice St Nick. 

Renee x


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