I wish that I was ten again,
when I only knew love and happiness existed in the world,
when I didn't know about grief or sorrow or loss.
I wish that I was twenty again,
when the world was a wide open canvas ready to reveal my story,
when I had yet to take more than a few brush strokes against it,
when I could paint my future any color I chose.
I wish that I was thirty again,
when my children were still small enough to think that I was the Queen of their world,
holding the keys to their kingdom in the palm of my hand,
when I still knew where they slept at night,
when I could keep watch over them.
I wish that I was forty again,
when I started on a journey to rediscovering myself,
finding that the road was filled with twists and turns I never expected,
where something dazzling and wonderful was waiting for me
around one of those bends in the road and
how it changed my life forever.
I wish that I was fifty again,
when cancer was just a disease you gave money to help find a cure for,
when it hadn't taken over our life,
when it hadn't made us feel small and helpless,
when I only knew love and happiness existed in my world,
where pain and hopelessness were only words,
when I didn't so well know grief or sorrow or loss.
