Giving up on wishing

She laid her beautiful head of curly chocolate hair on her pillow. As I take in the idea that I can no longer call her my small child I notice an eyelash has fallen onto her cheecks and is resting next to her light happy freckles. 

I reach for it and balance it gently on my fore finger for her to make a wish on. She looked at it and suddenly her cheerful retelling of what the lunch lady does if she catches you taking two items from the purple food group turned sombre. She looked at it for a moment and shook her head no.

I gave her my look that she knows means to ask what's up. She said she doesn't think she wants to wish anymore since none of her wishes ever come true. I asked her what she wishes for. She said she always wishes for the same thing, a happy family. 

I am heart broken.

It is the one thing money can't buy. 

So I told her that we are a family and we have to make ourselves happy. Then we will have a happy family. It might only be two people but it counts.