It’s the most wonderful time of the year (according to Andy Williams), and it’s also the time when many people write a Christmas wish list.
Well, this year, I’ve written a Christmas wish list, but it’s not a run-of-the-mill one. It doesn’t involve any gifts.
My Christmas Wish List When I Was a Child
When I was ten, I developed scoliosis. I wished, with all my heart, that it could be different — that it could be straight like everyone else’s. I wished I could be “normal.” My Christmas wish list had just one wish: that I no longer had scoliosis.
But wishes like that don’t tend to come true.
Now, almost sixty years of age, I still live with a curved and twisted spine. I live with back pain every day, and with facial pain and other aches that have joined the party over the years. And yet… I’ve learned to accept it all. I don’t put “please straighten my spine” or “take away my pain” at the top of a Christmas wish list.
I’ve realised that acceptance is a gift, too. It allows life to unfold as it is, without yearning for something that’s unachievable.
My Christmas Wish List Now — Hopes and Wishes for Others
But though I can accept my own life, I cannot stop wishing that life could be kinder to other people. I wish for peace and rest for those who rarely get a break. I wish for more empathy in the world, especially for those whose struggles are invisible. And I hope people can find small joys to make their days better.
So my Christmas wish list isn’t about me, and it definitely doesn’t contain things you can buy.
At The Top of My List…
This year, the very top of my Christmas wish list is someone very close to my heart — my cousin, who was diagnosed with ALS (MND). There are no words for the helplessness, the fear, or the longing to do anything to take this from him. If there were a magic wand, I would use it on him. He — and others like him — desperately need a cure.
The Greatest Gifts Can’t be Wrapped
The older I get, the more I understand that the greatest gifts we can offer are the ones we can’t wrap — time, love, empathy, and hope. That’s what the magic of Christmas should be about, rather than perfect presents or perfect bodies.
As Christmas approaches, I hope that this season brings you comfort, peace, and a reminder that you’re not alone in whatever you’re carrying. Whatever this time of year looks like for you, I’m sending you love and hoping that Christmas is kind to you. And even with everything life brings, I hope this season offers you a quiet spark of joy and moments that help your heart feel a little lighter.
Thank you so much for reading.
If this post resonated with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
And feel free to share it with your friends or support groups.
Take care,
Liz.
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Sending Christmas wishes to you…filled with hope.
That’s such a good way of putting it, about acceptance being a gift, too. I still hate what you go through, and have gone through for so long, which just makes everything you do – for your family, for your friends, for everyone online through your blog – all the more amazing.
ALS is incredibly damn cruel and I’m so very sorry for your cousin. If only there were a magic wand. I still think, with all the miraculous developments we have today in the world, that it’s heartbreaking there’s still so much we don’t have when it comes to treatments. Not even cures, just treatments and better ways to manage conditions. Here’s to hoping the future will be bright on that front to help people who need it.
Wishing you and your family a warm, comfortable-as-possible Christmas lovely 🎄🎅🎁
Caz xx
Thank you, Caz.
Yes, there are so many truly awful conditions that have no treatments, never mind cures. Hopefully, one day..
Hope you also have a nice Christmas, Caz. Take care of yourself xx