Choosing Happiness

Choosing Happiness

This was an original LAMOMS blog that I posted seven years ago.  It popped up in my Facebook memories today.  I re-read it and then went out on the deck and read it to my husband.  Life changes, sometimes ever so quickly, but it's nice to know that I still have the same goals and outlooks on things that matter.


April 15, 2010
Choosing Happiness
We decided to go on an over-nighter to lovely Santa Barbara over Spring Break. My
youngest couldn’t wait to leave our house and start our adventure. Yet, his mood seemed
dour and sour on the roughly one hour ride. I don’t know if he was hungry or tired or not
happy with the music selection playing, but he was very focused on maintaining his morose
mood. When he would notice I was looking at him, his scowl intensified. Finally, I said to
him, “Joey, is there anything wrong?”

“No,” he replied.

“Then you should choose happiness.”

We soon arrived in Santa Barbara, had lunch, checked into our hotel and went on a Landshark Tour. The boys were amazed. We were on a bus…and then the bus drove into the water…and it became a boat. How cool was that? My sour and dour boy was grinning from ear to ear. Later we took them to a city park with an 8,000 square foot Kids Zone Playground. I didn’t know a grin could stretch further than ear to ear. Now, he could have chosen to complain despite it all (kids do sometimes cry at Disneyland). But, he didn’t. He immersed himself in the family adventure. He chose happiness.

There are many things I want for my children. These include a good education, good health, common sense, the ability to discern between want and need (at their current ages, that’s still a dream). Mostly, though, I want them to be happy. I want them to learn how to choose happiness. I recognize that for some it’s chemically impossible to do so; but for most of us, on most days, happiness is a choice.

Let me first say I don’t consider myself a Pollyanna. I am not oblivious to the situations in my neighborhood, state, country, church or world (although some days I wish I were). After my mother was in the full throws of early-onset Alzheimer’s I was grieving and periodically depressed, but not suffering from depression. I have witnessed random acts of violence and bizarre twists of fate. While keenly aware that there is another shoe that could drop, it is not something that dominates my thoughts or decision-making process. I prepare for the worst, but hope for the best - not just with events but with people, too. My time here is limited so why not find the joy?

For me, finding the joy involves different things and often it’s reminding myself that in the great scheme of things, whatever is irritating me at the moment won’t matter a week from now. I get outside. I look at the clouds or the stars. I listen to my favorite songs. I sing (loudly if I can). I dance around my kitchen. I call a friend or my husband for either sympathy or perspective. Giving…giving always makes me feel better. Sometimes a good glass
of lemonade-ice tea does it. Happiness doesn’t have to be big. Sometimes the world throws you a curve ball. Most of the time you have the tools to deal with it. Most of the time, I can choose to find the joy. I want that for my kids. I hope I can teach them that. If I can succeed in doing that, it will make me…happy.

This is an original LA Moms Blog.
Teresa also whistles while she works on her LA Moms Blogs.

Seventeen

-->

Seventeen.  How did we get here?

While this can be a time of challenges, you are on the precipice of great things.  You’ve done a lot of prep work and are just about ready to start a new journey.  Your dad and I have hopefully given you many of the tools you’ll need, but, really, this is the time of beginning where you’re less of us, and more of you - more of who you are becoming. 

We hope we’ve led you, taught you well, that you see us more as examples to you and less as excuses for you.  We hope you realize how capable you are of being who you want to be, of achieving whatever you want to achieve - because, we see that.

We hope we’ve prepared you for this privilege of driving forward- that you’ll know when to risk and when to be responsible.  Life involves both and you must find your balance.  And Tommy, you are so very capable of that. 

I love your wit, your intelligence, your comedic timing, your silliness.  I love seeing you in your role as an older brother.  Your milestones are more subtle now but they are noticed and treasured and, yes, bittersweet. 

This is your journey, Tommy.  It's not always about the destination – a lot of it is about how you get there, what route(s) you take, what stops you make along the way, who is riding shotgun next to you.  Sometimes remember to take the scenic route – look around you – there is SO MUCH, Tommy, so much to enjoy, experience, learn from.  Know when to brake and when to press the gas, because we so want you to enjoy this ride. 

You are seventeen.  We love you. 

2017 - A New Hope

Happy New Year!  Last week, I went to a New Year's Eve party and our host showed us one of her family's New Year's Eve traditions.  We filled pots with water (the size of your pot represented the size of your troubles in 2016) and tossed the water into the street while saying something in Cuban releasing all the nastiness (juju) that impacted your life.  A clean slate for 2017.

I thought about 2016.  Overall, my family's 2016 was not a bad year.  It seemed like we were in the minority when I was reading social media the last two weeks of the year.  While there were many famous icons who passed away throughout last year, no one in our family did.  I'm sure that 2016 was not a great year for the family members those icons left behind.  While we lost no one, I have quite a few friends who did.  In the last week alone, a dear friend lost her father-in-law after his battle with ALS ended, another friend's mom passed suddenly, unexpectedly.  Several friends had a parent who passed away in the last twelve months.  My friend Laura died in June after a battle with cancer's resurgence, a battle very few people knew about until the end.  She was way too young to leave this world and my heart broke for her, her husband, their son.  Another friend lost her son (on his way to his college classes) in a tragic automobile accident.  I can't imagine that there would be a pot big enough to fill for any of these people.

While we grieve many things - the passage of time, the loss of our youth, missed opportunity - nothing punches us so hard, knocks us down, seeps into the nooks and crannies of our minds and hearts the way the loss of someone we love does.  If it were a finite thing, maybe, maybe it could be rationalized and justified.  "I can get through this.  In a month it won't hurt like this." And, that statement may be true...in a month.  But, in one month and two weeks something may trigger another huge wave and it will suck you up, spit you out onto the shore, leave you cold and crying - the salt of your tears stinging your cheeks and eyes.  Grief SUCKS. I hate it.  I hate the scarred holes in my heart the losses leave behind, the aches for the presence of my mom at all of my children's milestones.  The sweetness of her memory barely covers the bitterness of her absence.  Grief sucks and if I had the power to take it away from all my friends who have been charged with this burden of bearing it, I would in a heartbeat.

But I can't. So instead, I would like 2017 to be filled with less grieving, more healing. Less dark, more light. More peace, more laughter, less tears.  A smaller pot to fill with water on 12/31/17. A girl can hope.