One chilly Monday in late January—chilly and not cold because we lived in Gainesville, Florida—I waited anxiously for my boyfriend to get back from a weekend at his parents’ house.
He’d driven down to spend his birthday with them, not long after he returned from a semester abroad. With his graduation four months away, change loomed over us. And I’d missed him. So I put on a favorite outfit for my day at work and treated myself to a takeout lunch when my coworkers ordered Chinese food.
I saved my fortune cookie for a snack. Midafternoon, between phone calls, I cracked it open and read, “Your dearest wish will come true.” I popped the sweet cookie in my mouth and tucked the fortune in my wallet.
Not long after I got home that evening, A. knocked on my door. I opened it to see him, smiling and holding a single red rose.
“Will you marry me?”
Of course I said yes. I had waited all day—and several years--to say yes!
We talked for a bit, then headed out to indulge in a nice (for us, at that time) dinner at a Mexican restaurant where a friend tended bar. It was raining by then, but that only added to the magic. We ran through the rain under the streetlights together, then listened to the rain drum on the awnings sheltering the patio tables while the portable heaters hissed, keeping us warm. Of course our friend gave us a round on the house to celebrate.
I found the fortune again a few days later. It had already gotten a little tattered around the edges, so I used scotch tape to “laminate” it, then tucked it in a picture holder in my wallet. That fortune lived in my wallet for years, eventually moving to into the zipper section with my coins. Somehow it survived several wallet changes, moves, house renovations, and the chaos small children bring. Eventually I got a “fortune keeper” keychain—two magnetic plexiglass sections protected the fortune where I could see it, hanging from my wallet zipper, going with me everywhere I went.
Then, just last week, I noticed my fortune keeper was empty. We checked purses, cars, cabinets, shoulder bags—everywhere you can imagine. No fortune.
I have lost a lot in the past few years—we all have. I would say that I feel everything more deeply right now, especially loss. Yet, after the first reflexive pang, I felt an odd peace about how the fortune, which I’d carried for twenty-three years, had moved on.
As I write, I have debated the various possible sources of that peace for days, and one idea rings most true. My dearest wish has come true now.
Our marriage has weathered some difficult, ugly times, yet now we are better friends then ever. We share more clarity about our goals, we hear more nuances in each other’s words, we make each other laugh like no one else can, and we appreciate each other more fully than ever.
Our children, both now solidly in their teens, walk confidently along the paths of their lives. They are kind, loving, resilient people with diverse interests, pursuits, and abilities. The four of us have weathered the pandemic together, finding a silver lining of shared joy in the middle of—well, whatever you call what we all have been experiencing.
Most of all, I’ve miraculously experienced a healing I could not have imagined two years ago. For the first time in my life, my heart is whole, my mind my own, and my spirit free. I walk through the world as if all my senses have been magnified by ten. My emotions, equally enhanced, span a greater variety than I thought possible. Appreciation of beauty, peace, and delight visit me often. The weighted suit of pain I’ve carried as long as I can remember has fallen away. The thought still wells up in me several times a day: I had no idea life could be so easy.
Nothing is perfect; I have no desire to tempt fate. Fortune’s wheel will turn. Add as many clichés as you’d like! Still, I cannot imagine wanting more from life than this: to be well, to love and be loved, and to watch my children flourish.
I thought my dearest wish had come true when A. and I agreed to share our lives and, in a way, it had. At least, we planted the seed that led us here, to a point where I realize that the process of watching life bloom for the ones I love fulfills that wish.
Perhaps that little slip of paper hopped off my wallet after all these years to remind me that the journey truly matters more than any one step.
 |
| The fortune that came with our takeout a few days before I noticed the old one was missing. |
