Life is not a bowl of cherries for anyone. We must take the bitter with the sweet, we’re told. But some people seem to have an innate melancholy they can never shake. Studies now show that we stay at the same level of happiness our entire life. There’s only one thing that’s been proven to increase happiness. It’s free and has no negative side effects.
Gratitude.
What is one of the first things our parents teach us? “Say ‘thank you’.” Some children need more prompting than others. I was not a big thank-er until it finally dawned on me that nothing happens without the assistance of at least one other person.
It still takes two people to be born. (They may never meet, but there has to be a male and female in the equation.) When we die, people must deal with our remains and whatever we left behind. In between those moments, someone is always taking time out of their life — or money out of their pocket — to help us. Assisting others in return feels good…until we’re not thanked. Then we grow resentful.
When my brother and I were faced with the daunting task of clearing out our hoarder mother’s house (at least ten dumpsters worth of stuff), I came across the porcelain figurine pictured above. It helped erase decades of anger toward her for being an extreme sentimentalist who tossed nothing, and many other things I blamed her for which were not warranted or should have been forgiven. Not only does this object now remind me of her whimsical ways and how deeply I love her and miss her, but that every day is Thanksgiving Day.
Don’t take it serious; it’s too mysterious
You work, you save, you worry so
But you can’t take your dough when you go, go, go
The strongest oak must fall
The sweet things in life, to you were just loaned
So how can you lose what you’ve never owned?
Life is just a bowl of cherries
So live and laugh at it all
Click here to read the Harvard Health Newsletter on happiness
This post has been revised from a previous one.
I know that I’m not posting at the appropriate place, but despite the invitation to contact you–which I would have done anyway–I find it impossible to find the place to post about my experience of reading “When I Married. . . ”
While I know that others have cared for elderly parents, your story is one that I am experiencing and understand. As an only child of a mother who had emotional problems as I was growing up, I now care for her–from a distance (3 hours). This is a woman I often wished dead during my childhood. My details aren’t important except to say that the moments you describe between you and your mother as you reunited and she aged touched me deeply. Now that I have come to know my mother in a totally different way, I understand, forgive, appreciate and love her more than I ever thought possible–similar to the story you tell. It was so affirming to read your words, to know that someone else has felt the same feelings that you articulate so clearly. To feel the love you craved in childhood and didn’t know she felt for you. . . it is such a gift to have lived long enough to understand why our mothers teated us as they did and to celebrate our discovery of who they really were and are to us. I thank you so much for writing this book.
Hi Carolyn,
Thanks so much for writing and sharing your feelings. You touched me deeply as well. It’s wonderful you’ve had the opportunity to connect with your mother and see her in a different way. It changed me for the better, that’s for sure. It was a wonderful and most unexpected gift. I’m glad you are enjoying yours. Every moment is precious. I sound like a Hallmark greeting card! Well, you know what I mean. Thanks for getting in touch. – Jo
I guess those Hallmark greeting cards often give words to feelings with which we all struggle! One last thing is that your description of falling in love with your mother is EXACTLY how I now feel about my mom. I now worry about her dying–about losing the person who probably has loved me more than anyone else in the world–something that you articulate so well. Out of the depth of this love comes the ability to love and nurture ourselves. We have both had the opportunity to finally get that. Thank you, again, for writing, what I believe, is a unique story–at least a story that I’ve not seen written before now.
Thank you, Carolyn. I hope your words resonate with someone reading this.