On Being Happy

I learned a lot about being happy from my Grandma Luella.  Her family came to Wisconsin from Oslo, Norway and she never left.  She was widowed at a young age and raised 3 sons on her own.  She endured the unimaginable loss of her infant daughter, and later one of her sons.  She understood suffering and seemed to transform it into compassion.  She was a woman who loved to serve.  She worked with learning-disabled kids and loved each one like her own.  She didn’t drive a car.  She wore peculiar shoes with heels and walked everywhere.  She made every detail of Thanksgiving remarkable and delicious year after year. She collected elephant figurines—she preferred the ones with the trunks up. Her little home was charming, whimsical, and smelled of things baking. Her paper-thin frosted Christmas cookies were a delicacy. She lived past ninety and remained relentlessly cheerful.  She truly delighted in her life.

During her last years, I would visit her often in a nursing home where she shared a room with her beloved sister, Claire.  My job was to polish her fingernails with her favorite Revlon color and read passages from her well-worn Bible as her polish dried.  Her Bible was her respite and it was filled with cards, notes, newspaper clippings and bookmarks of her favorite passages.  She never talked about religion with me; yet I learned most everything about living with faith from her.

Claire passed away during one night and Luella woke up to an empty bed next to her.  When I went to visit to her in the months that followed, she remained cheerful and upbeat despite her deep sorrow. I wondered how she felt those last years of life, so I asked her, “Grandma, are you happy?”  Her response is etched in my soul.  She said, “Kristin, I don’t know any other way to be.  Every day I have a little something to look forward to.”

Her Bible now has a special place in my home and I treasure all the writings she placed in-between the pages.  When I feel vulnerable, I flip through it and remember her way of showing up for a day—with a little something to look forward to.

Take it with you today:

Rose Kennedy once said, “Birds sing after a storm, why shouldn’t people delight in whatever sunshine remains for them?” Delight in something today and allow your heart to sing.