I am headed out the door this Christmas morning -- with my husband and two little boys -- to my sister's house where our family members will gather to celebrate the spirit of the season. There will be good food and good company and good laughs -- and good gifts too. And while I have managed to create a mini wish list -- I'm liking decorative tin stars this year and I'll always take the gift of a pedicure -- there is only one gift I really want. Time.

I have been surviving breast cancer for two years. I've seen my oldest child march off to kindergarten and my youngest son grow into an independent little soul. I've seen my hair grow, my anxiety diminish, and my writing career blossom. Time is quite a gift. And I want more of it.

I want to see my kids tackle first grade and preschool. I want to further develop my writing pursuits. And I want meet my sister's new baby, due at the end of May.

I believe in my head and my heart and my gut that I have a lot more time left on this planet. But just to be safe, I'm keeping time on my wish list for as long as I can. Because all ll I really want for Christmas -- every Christmas -- is time.