Skip to main content

Genie in a bottle


 I just recently watched a cute movie called Genie with Melissa McCarthy. It's your typical genie movie with a few twists. Instead of only getting three wishes, the guy that opens the box gets unlimited wishes. At first, he does what anyone else would do. He wishes for extravagant material possessions, but then, he wishes for more meaningful things like healed relationships. In the end, he makes a special wish for Melissa (the genie.) It was an entertaining feel good movie. 

As I watched, I wondered what I'd do if I were in that situation. Of course, we all know genies aren't real, but I remember the first TV genie that every impacted my life was on the show I Dream of Jeannie. Way back in 1969, I used to love watching Barbara Eden as Larry Hackman gave her specific instructions on what to do. I thought it was hilarious when she'd cross her arms, and purposefully nod her head with a "Your wish is my command, master." 

Boy, did I want my own personal genie! 

I'd still like to have one today. If I had a genie, I'd never have to fold clothes or wash dishes again. I could travel to Timbuktu and back in the blink of an eye. I could have all the things I ever dreamed of and then some. It would be amazing and also scary. 

Right now, people are getting ready to celebrate Christmas. They're buying gifts for loved ones and doing their best to choose appropriate, meaningful gifts. For some, it's an extremely fun time but for others, it can be exasperating and overwhelming. 

If I could have one special gift under the tree on Christmas morning, I think I'd like to have a genie. Of course, I'd prefer to have the type Melissa McCarthy was - one who offered unlimited wishes as opposed to the tiny limit of 3. But if I could only have 3, I think I'd wish for all cancers to be eradicated, for homelessness to end, and of course, for world peace. 

I wonder if my genie would find those wishes too complicated to grant. I'd like to think she'd have the power to bring those to fruition, but I guess I'll never know since genies aren't real. 

This Christmas, I'm going to do my best to be grateful for the life I have now. Yes, it's drastically different than the one I had in 2014, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, but it's still good. 

I'd like to think we all have the power to grant a few wishes now and then, especially for those going through the various stages of cancer. We might not be able to give exact wishes, but we could come pretty doggone close. 

We can make phone calls and write letters. We can help transport families to see loved ones or offer to give rides to medical appointments. We can take someone's list and do the shopping for them. There are so many things we could do to be little genies. 

And while we can't grant the big wish - the take away cancer one or remove the pain and suffering one, we can do something meaningful. 

Every person is blessed with a particular ability. Some of us have great listening skills, others can give the gift of quality time. Whatever your genie superpower may be, don't wait to be called upon to use it. Go ahead and throw some kind wish granting to the wind and see where your generosity lands. Remember, it'll come back to you one day, too. It may not be in exactly the same way, but you'll receive a blessing of some sort. And that's all that really matters anyway, isn't it? It's more blessed to give than to receive, just like the old saying goes.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out

Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out, especially when I read a friend's blog post and I just can't wrap my head around it. This morning, I was reading a post from a fellow breast cancer survivor. She said her cancer has returned and is growing in her spine. As soon as I read the words, I burst into tears. I just didn't understand! We'd been diagnosed with the same type of cancer in the same year. How could it be that her cancer had returned and mine had not? And what made it even more difficult to understand and accept was the fact that she'd chosen to go the traditional treatment route. I'd opted not to do that. She'd endured chemotherapy, radiation, and the anti-hormone therapy afterward. I'd refused chemo, had done 28 rounds of radiation, and had only taken the anti-hormone drugs for a couple of months. It just didn't compute and it certainly didn't seem fair. But that's what sucks about cancer. It doesn't follow the rules.

Cancer the gift that keeps on giving - the high cost of cancer

There's a basket of bills sitting in the corner of my bedroom. I try not to look at it as I enter the room but I know it's there. Its contents spill out onto the floor whenever my husband stuffs another bill into the basket. Usually, when the mail comes, he gets it first so he can filter what I see and what I don't see. Since he's the only one working, he takes care of our financial responsibilities and while I'm thankful for that, I'm not ignorant about our mounting bills. Cancer is expensive. Even if you've reached maintenance phase, it's costly. There are always tests to be run, blood to be taken, doctors to see. It never ends. Just knowing this will be a continual process for the rest of my life frustrates me and the alternative, death, will be my only way out. It would be nice to know that cancer could be a once and done kind of thing but that's only wishful thinking. Everyone knows cancer is a long and very involved illness. I had no id

Incoming!

 When I was a kid, I remember listening to my Daddy occasionally talk about being in the service. Those occasions were very rare so whenever he'd talk, I'd really listen. Once he told about being outside a bunker in Japan. He said planes were flying overhead and he heard a guy yell, "Incoming!" They knew that meant it was imperative to take cover and they did, but some of the soldiers weren't fast enough. They lost their lives in a split second.  That one word was a very serious warning and one I never forgot. I think my eyes bugged out of my head when he first said it although he didn't say it in a frightening way. I imagined the sounds of aircraft overhead as the warning went out. And imagined how I'd have felt if I'd been right there with him. I'd have been petrified, probably unable to move. No wonder so many soldiers came back from war with post traumatic stress syndrome (PTSD). And when they were freshly home, it didn't take much to set t