If I had my way…

people-holding-hands-around-the-world-md…the world would be a very simple place. All people would be healthy, wealthy and wise. They’d have constant peace of mind and feel content knowing that life is grand. People would spend their days living their passions and feeling worthy. Each individual would happily contribute to this phenomenon we call life.

If I had my way, everyone would own a home. A place to not only find shelter, but to find complete comfort.

If I had my way, every household would have a chef available, preparing meals that are not only delicious, but help promote energy and keep weight in check, which in turn would instill the willingness to meet or exceed personal endeavors.

If I had my way, gym access and personal trainers would be everywhere, encouraging all people to join them, to jump start a life of activity.

If I had my way, vehicles would be purchased, without constraints. And replaced, without question, at the first sign of its discord.

If I had my way, all educational institutions would open their doors wide, allowing every wanting person to build upon an already intact intelligence, free of charge.

The world, in my fantasy mind, or as many would say, my naive mind, would be a very simple place. A place where people lived side-by-side, living independently, yet knowing they could count on anyone, and everyone, to help when a need arose. People would be jovial, simply saying hello to each other, and genuinely wishing one another a wonderful day.

If I had my way, the PEACEFUL world I would create would be overflowing with positive vibes, giving people no time, energy, or even the desire to engage negatively.

Beachfront

“Someday, Mom, when I am super-rich – a millionaire, you know – I will buy you anything you want.”

beachfront house

Brad had began this conversation six or seven years back. Just a thought that had popped into his mind. He was imagining his million dollar future.

As I was thinking, wishing, and dreaming, Brad couldn’t contain himself; thus, he blurted out that he wanted “…to live in a mansion. I will have people cleaning for me. I will have as many cars as I want. I will have a movie theater. A snack bar. A bowling alley. A skateboard park. My pool will be huge, in the shape of my name…”

“Wow! That’s awesome!” I exclaimed, when he finished naming a million more things.

Of course, aside from all those material things, I had to assume a wife would fit into his future, so… I broached the subject.

“Make sure she loves you for who you are, not for what you have,” I humbly told him.

“Well, how will I know if a girl likes me, for me?” he asked, very interested. “I mean, how do I know it’s not my money she wants?”

“When you meet a girl you like, someone you really would consider as a wife, do not let her know how wealthy you are. Just don’t talk about it, and don’t take her to your mansion.”

“Ah,” he responded. “Good idea.”

“That way,” I continued, “she will like you. Then when you both know you are the one for each other, surprise her. Tell her you are a millionaire.”

Brad nodded his head. Up. Down. Slowly.

“So? What would you want?” he asked again.

Without hesitation I happily said, “A beach house. Nothing big, just a place where I can sit, look out the window, and see the ocean in my front yard. Far enough away from the water so I can have a grassy yard with a walkway to the door; surrounded by a little white picket fence. A cozy place. I want to hear the water, and see it too.”

“Oh, that sounds nice. Okay. I will buy you a beach house. Better yet, I will buy you a beach house on your own island,” he said, so certain he would someday make my dream come true.

Rudy had been sitting in the other room when he overheard our conversation and asked, “What about me? What will you give me?”

“A Range Rover.”

“A Range Rover? Why?”

“Well, that is the car you wish you had, right? A black one?”

“Yeah.

“That’s why. That is what you wish you had,” Brad said. He was serious. A serious 9 or 10 year old kid.

When Brad does become a millionaire, I just hope the beach house he purchases me will be big enough to accommodate any and all visitors. Plus, Rudy’s Range Rover will need to be in tiptop shape as we cruise along our sandy front yard, salty air encasing its interior.