Happy Things Show Up, Always
I’ll be the first to admit my ability to use happiness as a coping mechanism has been challenged since 2026 began. The times I felt like I was trying to navigate through giant piles of rubble with gum on my shoes or wanted to eat whatever it is bears eat to plug up their butts and hibernate for a few months without pooping in their den? Those moments were more common than usual, and it was rough. Like, sand paper for underpants rough.
The happy things, however, demanded to be noticed. Even when I WANTED to be in a dark cave, light never stopped creeping in, never let me lose sight of the pure goodness that even the roughest moments bring with them.
In January, I found out my health insurance costs a staggering $1,600 a month - it’s a whole cancer thing- and that number makes my brain hurt. But no amount of financial stress outweighs the fact that I’m now healthy and have the continued access to medical care I need. If I had to pick between being a sick millionaire or a healthy broke lady, I’d stay right where I am and whistle while checking Amazon Prime for discounted paper towels.
My mother died suddenly in March and I still can’t really talk about it. It’s unspeakable, that “one day she was here and the next day she was gone” feeling. But knowing she is not destined for continued pain, health problems and the horrible long, slow goodbye I was anticipating overshadows my grief and truly lights up my heart, even through my sorrow.
In April, I fell off a bike on our European cruise and broke my leg, a tibial plateau fracture that required surgery, after which I was completely laid up for weeks. I lost almost 2 months of work, was in excruciating pain, and couldn’t do much for myself physically at all. But I also witnessed humanity at it’s kindest, from Belgium to home. I will forever strive to be like all the strangers who helped me. I’m blessed beyond measure by sweet friends who showed up in so many ways. Somehow, my already strong marriage became even stronger as my husband patiently (well, MOSTLY patiently) handled me without losing his mind or “accidentally” dropping me down any stairs. And I learned that my body can still heal, even after all it’s already been through.
May, our dog Hazel swallowed a potato whole and required a $6,000 surgery to save her life. She’s fine now and worth every penny…but we don’t actually have that many pennies these days (recall the above mentioned health insurance premiums and loss of income after breaking my leg). The gratitude that she is fine, however, certainly outweighs the cost. We don’t deserve dogs, but somehow, we get to live in the same world they do. She’s here, cuddled up to me as I type. There is no price you can put on that. (Ok, the price is $6,000 and a new hatred of potatoes, but I’ll still take it.)
June is coming to an end, and I’m so happy to report I’m back on my feet, a bit slower and sometimes needing a crutch, but I’m doing it. I’ve been working REALLY hard at physical therapy and exercising at home, and my progress has been about 4 weeks ahead of where I was projected to be- I’ll take the win! I’ll take the light.
There were hours and minutes that made it really hard to see the silver linings, but I assure you, they were there. They always are. And they find you when you look for them.