So, my part of Pennsylvania has had a particularly rainy May, and I can’t say I was thrilled about it while it was happening. I tried having a “little talk” with the rain drops, but it did no good at all. Now that the rain has stopped for several days, I am rejoicing at the lush greenness around me: the vibrant tree leaves, the new growth pachysandra, the grass that is calf high–all of it makes me happy. But nothing makes me rejoice more than the ease of weeding after a long period of rain. This morning it took me no time to pull out stubborn dandelions and onion grass. My Hellebores are happy in their pristine beds. The Hostas seem to be smiling at me. Joy!
What I missed most during the rainy period was listening to the school children as they wait for the bus just at the end of my driveway. They are accompanied by their parents, since the children are K-3, but they manage to find something to laugh about every day, and the sound of that laughter provides me with hope and optimism on even the worst news day.
I believe that we need to appreciate our moments of bliss when we find them. Last year at this time it was hard for me to believe in joy. When one’s very good friend is ailing, and when most days are spent in the confines of a hospital room, joy can be fleeting, elusive. We wanted to be happy and we did rejoice in the small things–the funny cards, the kindness of the nurses, the scent of the roses. I just read a remark from Doris Day, whose movies were the backdrop of many of my teen year Saturday afternoon matinees. She said, “I like joy. I want to be joyous; I want to have fun; I want to smile and I want to make people laugh. I like being happy.”
I guess we all want that. We just have to look hard sometimes to find the strength to rise up to it.