I’ve surrounded myself with pictures of joy. As I sit at my desk, within my line of vision are pictures of people I love smiling with so much joy. My mom, my dad, my husband, myself, my girls. My mom in her 20s, hands on her hips, looking straight at me in the same manner as I like to look at the world sometimes. My husband before I met him, laughing with glee, lanky and bright. Us at our wedding. Chris playing dominoes with me while we were in our 20s before my brother-in-law died. KK at 14; KK as a baby in a backpack. Liz in 5th grade twice; in one of the them she holds a card for me with her Mother’s Day wish for me: love in huge letters and a spa day in small letters.
I’m settling into joy because every day there’s some small mountain of impossibility that arrives as well. A little of this, a little of that. Bliss and hardship. Swallow your joy slowly and completely, says life’s doctor. It’ll sustain you. For sure.