Life in progress


SoCS – Happiness is a Choice

I’m a true believer in the concept that anyone can choose to be happy, in any circumstance. I understand it seems impossible at times. Times of loss, of grief, of depression can darken the world around us to the extent that there is no light to be found anywhere. And yet…

There is a time to grieve. Being sad and allowing ourselves to be sad is a vital part of the healing process. There is benefit in sadness in that it allows us to relax our expectations of ourselves.

I remember when my father died. I was fourteen at the time, an only child, and my mother was devastated. I was sad, of course, but I refused to allow myself to show it in front of her. I felt that I needed to be strong for her.  Days before he died (it was completely unexpected–a sudden heart attack) he sat me down and told me that as long as I could laugh, I could survive anything. They were, obviously, words I took deeply to heart. And so, at his funeral I sat beside my mother and I said something to make her laugh. I can’t not believe that my father would have wanted that. He was an extremely funny man, and he loved to make people laugh, as I do.

I wonder about the psychology behind making her laugh – was it because if she could, I wouldn’t lose her too?

Was it actually happiness? No. But I have since, through all the trials and tribulations I have faced with failed marriages, with disabled children, decided to be happy. I can let it all get to me or I can laugh.

It can be difficult. It can be done. But it’s not for everyone.

with Robin Williams.

This post is part of SoCS

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

and Just Jot It January

JJJ 2015


Distraction and Randomness

Am I the only one who is incredibly distracted by all the articles on Robin Williams? I think it’s the vast contradiction between the man who made us laugh and the exceptionally sad circumstances of his death that have me reeling so much over the news. I’ve tried to write more on the subject, but no matter what I write, it just makes no sense.

In other news, I went upstairs to go to bed the other night (it must have been more than a week ago by now) and Alex was talking in his sleep. Keep in mind that he doesn’t speak – he only signs. I actually walked to my room to the sound of applause. I’ve seen him do it before though. It’s quite funny to watch him have a conversation with someone in his dream. He giggles a lot as well.

When I was at the Museum of Nature in Ottawa I saw a Splitfin Flashlight fish. Try saying that three times fast.

Don’t forget to get your entries in for the badge design contest tomorrow!

That’s really all I can come up with at the moment. (See first paragraph.)




I’m writing this as I sit in a state of shock. The numbness – the suspension of disbelief – I feel when I find out that suddenly someone I grew up “knowing” has died, is incomparable to anything else. It’s not as though I actually knew the man. Yet he was part of my life. The kind of guy you figure will be around forever.

Stars are immortal, and yet they’re not.

Rest in peace, Robin Williams.

Nanoo nanoo.