By Pattie Mihalik

newsgirl@comcast.netDuring a recent discussion group, we were asked to write down the answer to this question: If you could have any one material thing and cost was no object, what would you want?At first I was tempted to say I don’t really long for anything because I’ve found that all the important things in life don’t cost money. But if I had to list one unfulfilled materialistic wish, it would be for a boat.I know. Anyone who has ever gotten within shouting distance of me knows that I want a boat. We paid a lot of money to have a boatlift in our backyard. The problem was, when we did buy a used boat, we bought a lemon. Nice looking on the outside. Totally worthless mechanically.After countless breakdowns, too many mechanic bills and very little time on the water, we had to give up and sell the boat.My husband said “never again” and won’t change his mind. I counter with asking, What’s the sense of having a dock, an empty boat lift and a house on the water while I just sit there watching other people’s boats go by all day?He insists we were burned too badly and won’t do it again. I told him that’s like saying if one person is bad, all people are bad. Wouldn’t the same thing apply to boats?He’s not buying that logic and I have to accept that the window of opportunity to have a boat has passed me by.So, I didn’t answer the question of what I would want most by saying I want a boat.After giving it some thought, I wrote I would want good health. I knew in the truest sense good health is not a material thing. But it is what I most think of if I could have anything in the world.I thought of the sign in a doctor’s office that said: “I asked the for all things so I could enjoy life. Now, I ask for life so I can enjoy all things.”That thought provoking quote is actually part of a short but powerful essay, The Blessing of Unanswered Prayer.When we all compared answers, four out of six in our discussion group had the same answer. I’m sure that’s because we are all retired and are at the age when, like my derelict boat, we break down a lot.When you’re young, you mostly take your good health for granted. And you sure don’t worry about the far distant future because you have enough to confront you right then and there.I remember when I was hired at the newspaper and my publisher was telling me about the company’s excellent health benefits. I asked if I could forgo the health coverage for a bit more money. Only the naiveté of youth would ask something that dumb. It didn’t seem like too many years passed until I was most grateful for health coverage.I don’t know the purpose of starting our discussion group with the question of what we most want, if we could have anything. But I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when most of us had the same thoughts.We were all past the age when we could be afflicted with the “I Will Be Happy When Syndrome.”That’s when we think we will be happy when we graduate and get a good job.Then we think we will be happy when we marry the person of our dreams.That’s followed by thinking we will be happy when we have enough money for a home.The “I Will Be Happy When Syndrome” goes on and on, until we realize happiness doesn’t have much to do with our stage of life, our accomplishments, or our possessions.Happiness doesn’t depend on what we have. It has more to do with being happy with what we have.Do you think we know that when we are 18, or 28? Perhaps we do in a small way. But it’s when we get older and more reflective then the truth behind that becomes ingrained in us.I’ve always considered myself blessed that I had a dad who taught me from an early age through his words and actions that money doesn’t buy happiness. Mostly, he showed me happiness comes from within.You know how I started this column talking about wanting a boat? My dad had a boat and I spent some of the happiest moments of my life bobbing along in that boat with dad.When I tell you that, it’s very important to clarity what kind of boat dad had. It was a lightweight, small aluminum boat with a small motor. But when we were put-putting around on the bay in that little fishing boat, there wasn’t another boater who could have been enjoying the water more.I remember Dad’s motor wasn’t that reliable and there were times when our fishing and crabbing was postponed until he could fix it. But never once, during that time, did I look at the big boats on the water and wish we had one.I knew instinctively what we had was priceless. When I think of all my priceless experiences, not one came about because of something money could buy.Perhaps that kind of reflection was the whole purpose of that discussion group question.Contact Pattie Mihalik at

newsgirl@comcast.net.