Monthly Archives: February 2015


Lately I am too happy.

It’s like that moment in the movies where things are working out so perfectly, you just feel like something has to go wrong.

You know the moment I mean — Matthew Crawley is driving blissfully away from the Hospital after meeting his perfect newborn son, and as the beautiful music plays you know that stupid car is gonna crash.

It’s a strange thing. Why don’t we think it’s possible for ourselves to be blissfully happy? Is it us? Or is it just me…being a fatalist…hmmm.

Either way, it makes me think of a moment I had with my nephew several years ago.

We were in California on a family vacation and we’d spent the day at Disneyland, a day that also happened to be his birthday. As is customary with children at Disneyland, it was an exhausting day that brought with it both euphoria and tears.

When it came time for the firework show to start, the poor five year old kid had had it. He started crying inconsolably, so we left the park right as the show was starting. At some point during the 5k we walked to get to our car, he looked up at the fireworks, stopped crying and said, “they must know it’s my birthday.”

I wonder at what point we stop believing that we deserve all the happiness in the world. Apparently it’s somewhere between 5 and 25, and if I was a betting woman I’d put all my money on middle school. Or braces, whichever comes first.

I have felt so overwhelmed by all the happiness I have had lately. I feel undeserving of it. All the love and kind words and friends who fly halfway across the world to see you get married and families who surprise you with a flash mob set to your favorite Beyonce song. All the countless times Scott has looked at me, shaken his head, and told me, “You’re so pretty. You’re just so beautiful.”

It’s too much to take in. I feel myself grasping at it, wanting to bottle up all the excess and save it for a rainy day. It is really quite a pain to be a pessimist.

I don’t know that I deserve all this happiness any more than my five-year-old nephew deserved an all-out Disney level firework show for his birthday. But maybe it doesn’t matter if I deserve it or not. Maybe it just is.

And I get to feel it, and be grateful for it, and let it make my heart bigger. I get to enjoy my day in the fireworks and believe that maybe, just maybe, they were all just for me.