What Is It Going To Take To Make Me Happy Again?

 

“I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.”

 Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

When you wake up in the morning knowing the most exciting thing you have to do that day is unload the dish washer you know you’re in trouble. If not for the dog rattling the library door, I would have pulled the covers over my head and stayed in bed until noon. But he has a schedule to keep that includes dog walkers to bark at as they pass by the house so their four-legged companions can leave early morning pee-mail at our box. There is something pathetic about being jealous of your dog’s schedule but, darn it, it must be nice to have a purpose in life like he does. If I start barking at the rabbits as they feed in the back yard in the late afternoon I hope the neighbors will call Social Services because that will mean I’ve gone over the edge and into the land of kooky old people who, like Lewis Carroll did when he wasn’t teaching and writing about mathematics, find our imaginations more fun to live in than the here and now. Just call me Spot, your faithful Springer Spaniel.

When ever I bellyache about not having a sense of purpose since Don died, volunteering gets suggested. I duly note and appreciate the fact that often times the obvious answer to a dilemma is the correct answer. I’m not dismissing that suggestion although it doesn’t excite me. Call me naïve but I want to be on fire with passion over the direction I go next in life the way I used to be in my younger days when a project or idea would consume me. But is that even possible after we’ve pushed the envelopes of pain and happiness that come with living a long life? What is it going to take to make me happy again? Is it finding other people to connect with, finding a cause to fight for or a project to prime my creative juices---a combination of all three? And how is my search for happiness in my age bracket any different than at other crossroads through out our lives? Is fear of failure more or less an issue as we age and are contemplating a major life-style change? As we age do we become so afraid of missteps that we forget that missteps sometimes lead us to our greatest joys?

“Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle.”

 Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland 

One thing, of course, that will make me happy again is getting my dominant arm out of the sling at the end of the month. When I get the sling off, though, I will probably need some therapy. I can’t get my hand up close enough to my face to eat and my fingers wouldn’t stretch out fully yet. This has been a major setback in my pursuit of happiness in the post-Don era of my life. Breaking a bone at any age can bring a wave of depression into your life but I’m discovering that at my age it can also scare the crap out of you. Accidents happen so quickly and just as quickly they can cause you to end up in a nursing home when you have no one at home to help you. And this is where I need to remind myself about the Rule of Living in the Moment, and not to borrow trouble from the Department of What If This or That Happens. If I was inclined to get a tattoo it should read: DON’T BORROW TROUBLE. IT WILL GET HERE SOON ENOUGH!

Broken bone or not, I suspect that all widows eventually ask themselves the make-me-happy-again question. The pink elephant in the room is the fact that a lot of us would secretly say the one thing that would make us happy again is to rewind our lives back to a time when we could have done something to change the outcome we are now living with---the death of our spouse. But that possibility is in the realm of Alice in Wonderland going down the rabbit hole and try as we might, we can’t turn our lives into a fairytale where anything is possible. We can imagine turn-back-the-clock scenarios, though, and in the end they have the power to help us heal, make peace with the past, and that’s a good thing. I thought I had moved past the worst of my grief…until I broke my arm and then the “poor me” feelings came rushing back, and now the stress of not knowing where the future will take me is nipping at my heels again. Or maybe---just maybe---it’s too early in the timeline of widowhood to expect my mojo back. ©

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.
"I don’t much care where--" said Alice.
"Then it doesn’t matter which way you go," said the Cat.
"--so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.
"Oh, you’re sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough.”

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland