Mementos

Jeanna G2 Comments

I found myself on Google Maps the other day. I mean I was using Google Maps to look up an address. Although I did happen to stumble upon a piece of myself when I got there.

8 East Street, Hicksville, NY. (Yes, Hicksville is a real place!) Grandma hasn’t lived there in sometime near 20 years, but looking at its picture was like looking through a time portal. Gosh, I love that house. From the outside, with the exception of some new windows, it doesn’t look like it’s changed a bit. I’m grateful for that.

Thanksgiving fell around Gram’s birthday, so we’d celebrate both with the whole family at her house. Gram’s five sons and their families plus mom and our family took up all the space in that house. I can’t explain how we all fit. (Now that would’ve made for an amazing game of Sardines!) There were two bedrooms on the main floor, and the attic and basement were also used as bedrooms. There was one toilet in the whole house (not counting the chamber pot in the attic). I mean, that was hard for the two days we were there, but can you imagine growing up with five brothers and only one toilet?

Thanksgiving was extra special with the extensive family and the traditions of the parade and the spread, but Gram’s was always a place where I was happy to be. The food had a lot to do with it; homemade chocolate chip cookies, real mashed potatoes, soldiers (toast sticks and soft-boiled eggs), ham salad on Ritz, pumpkin pie. And there were other random things that I loved like the swing set in the back yard, her green Dodge Dart, the train whistle throughout the day, Little People and Fisher Price toys in the basement, the Care Bears resting on the bed pillows, and her 3-foot artificial Christmas tree. She taught me to play Rummikub, which she would play with her girlfriends on her trips to St. Martin. And of course there was Days of Our Lives. I think she might have been the very first viewer of that soap, and didn’t miss many, if any, episodes in the forty years from its air date until she passed.

I was in college when she sold the house in Hicksville. She actually moved closer to us, so I was able to see her more often, and her new home was just as welcoming and comfortable for holidays and regular days, even though it also had only one toilet.

Gram passed in 2005 at the age of 94. I miss her and I miss her homes, and now that I have a daughter, I miss her even more. I wish Ellie could have spent those Thanksgivings with her so much that I try to replicate the things I love and miss about those times.

Mementos. Trivial, materialistic, wastes of space? Or time machines in disguise that transport us to a place where our happiness grew? I found a Fisher Price retro cash register for $2 at a thrift shop and felt like I’d won the lottery. I bought my daughter Care Bears and Little People figures when she was a toddler. I have my own 3-foot artificial Christmas tree that I decorate with little multi-color lights and all of my tacky ornaments. I brought Rummikub to Turks and Caicos so I could play it with my girlfriends. I’d forgotten how to play in the 30 years since Gram had taught me, and the rum drinks weren’t helping to jog my memory, but I was happy to try, and grateful that my friends played along with me. When we moved into our home five years ago, a train whistled as it passed through town in the middle of the night, and I smiled knowing then that I had definitely chosen the right house.

Do I really need these things taking up space in my home? Yes. Yes I do. Because it is these objects that help me to find those spaces in my heart and mind where my happiness lives. It’s a good thing to have reminders of who and what nurtured your happiness, whether it’s a sound, a toy, or a tacky 3-foot artificial Christmas tree.

Where do you wish you could go back to? What mementos will you continue to hold onto?

Brook Stompin’

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My friend, Carrie, and I used to go stomping up and down Salmon Brook all summer long back in my hometown. Bikes were our main mode of transportation, so we’d pedal from opposite ends of town and meet up at the soccer fields at the far end of the park.

Carrie and I would slip and slide our way down the brook. The mini waterfalls, a.k.a. riffle zones, were where we’d lie and let the water cascade over our necks and shoulders. The deeper, swimmable pools were by the bridge, but we’d keep going until we hit the end of the park, then turn around and head all the way back up. I loved feeling like it was our own private water park, like no one else knew this opportunity even existed.

Earlier this week we saw a family wading in the creek along one of the trails where we occasionally walk our dogs. We smiled and waved, but I felt like we were intruding. My daughter felt otherwise and asked if we could go in. I told her we’d go in on a weekend when we had more time. Well, forgetting my promise, we ended up back on that trail the next Saturday. The weather was beautiful and no one was around. I got puppy dog eyes from her and the dogs, so in we went. I intended to barely wet my ankles, but the Labrador had other plans as she, not so gracefully, plunged into the water splashing all of us. She and my daughter raced up to the island and back, while the little dog barked at them from the banks.

I stood there worrying she was squealing too loudly, the dogs shouldn’t be off leash, there’s got to be some slimy creature we didn’t want to encounter, my car seats will get wet, and how clean is this water, anyway? But the sun started to warm my back, so I turned and faced it with my eyes closed and soaked it in. When I reopened my eyes I could see that Ellie had been transported to her world of imagination. The look of pure joy on her face drowned out all of my worries, and the memories of my adventures with Carrie at Salmon Brook resurfaced.

Generally speaking, we don’t think about things until we have a reason to. I wouldn’t think about brook stomping just sitting on my couch, and my daughter would have missed the opportunity if we only ever walked in our neighborhood. We’ve heard it before, but it’s worth repeating: Wander off the beaten path. Take a chance by rerouting your day’s itinerary. A trip down memory lane may be what makes today worth reliving.

Giving Back Happiness

Jeanna G1 Comment

Most of us, when asked what our goal in life is, probably go the more selfish route by simply answering, “To be happy.” Ideally, for everything we do, our motivation is that it makes us happy, or someone we love happy, and that in turn makes us happy. Whatever we’re doing may not make us happy in the moment, but the finished product does. Or maybe it’s the process itself-being in the flow- that makes us happy, and we’re less happy when it’s over. Or if you’ve really got a grip on life, you’re happy all the dang time!

But what do other people think your goal in life should be? And I don’t mean your mom and supportive best friends who, hopefully, want the best for you, and by that I mean they also want you to do whatever makes you happy (unless it means hurting kittens or plucking butterfly wings). I mean what does society think your goal is? And by society I mean the people who don’t know you and don’t think of you as a person with thoughts and feelings. What do they think your value is? What do they expect from you? Expectations can be anxiety inducing! I’d love to hear your thoughts, but I think they expect you to contribute, to give back in thanks for all you’ve been given, like your free public education. How often and how much are we expected to give back? And what qualifies as a contribution? I find it ironic that the same people who you don’t know and who know nothing about you- your background, your desires, or your capabilities- expect you to do what they want. And some of you out there are probably thinking, ‘Exactly! So who cares what they think?’ But we do all live on and share the planet, so maybe we should try to get along and help each other out? What we give out, we get back, right?

One evening when I was a child, my parents decided to give certificates to me and my siblings. My award was for ‘keeping the family together laughing.‘ Even at that young age, I felt very conflicted by that award. Initially I thought, ‘Yeah, I’m funny. This makes sense.’ But then even as a kid I thought, ‘Is this all I’m good for? Is this how I add value? This is what I’m being recognized for?’ That’s okay for a role within the family, but what about my role in the world? And at what point does our job of being cute and silly and cheering others up change to being what society expects?

It’s a keeper!

So what did you want to be when you grew up? Was it something society would approve of and find value in? I used to want to be an Olympic swimmer. That would’ve been cool, but even that doesn’t seem like much of a contribution to the greater good, other than to entertain and awe the masses. Then I wanted to be a chiropractor. Now that is a position of value. If you don’t agree, you’ve probably never needed or been to one. Well, things changed in college and, in turn, so did my major. I graduated with proof that I should be allowed to teach our youth. Teaching is definitely a valuable position (although most teachers are not rewarded as such), and they certainly give back to society by nurturing our children in a way so that they, too, hopefully grow to want to give back and do some good. But what happens if you work in a position that society deems important, but you’re not happy filling? Are you really putting in your best work if you’re not happy? Should you just keep on working in that field because you know it’s what others expect of you? Or do you quit with the hope that you will find a job that will make you happy and feel more purposeful? Or do you stop and think that maybe it’s time for a change in mindset.

Our jobs shouldn’t be what make or break our happiness. I think, in this country especially, we allow ourselves to be consumed by our jobs, our work, our careers. We start to feel unhappy because we’re not making time for anything else. And then the resentment grows and we blame our jobs. But it’s not our jobs (well, sometimes it might be), it’s our lack of time management skills with an emphasis on prioritizing what does make us happy. If we spent more time outside of work doing what we like, then maybe we would continue to like and be successful in our jobs. We need some balance, right?

I think the stay-at-home order that most of us have been subject to has been a real eye-opener for us. Some of us are handling it really well, and some of us are devastated. Now of course I realize some of us are in a position to handle it better than others because we still have a source of income and a roof over our heads, food in the fridge, and although we may be affected, we are not infected. But of the people who can stay at home, who among them is actually well? Why are some people perfectly content dwelling in their homes, while others are feeling imprisoned? I’m sure the possibilities are endless, but let’s get back to this notion of happiness.

If we’re not happy being with ourselves, how can we really be happy with others? Although it may be a dark and scary trip, we should take this time of isolation to really get to know ourselves. What are our true desires? What are we craving right now that we can’t find in our own hearts and minds and homes? I’m a list person, and this is a great list to make and stick on the wall to remind us when we can get back to ‘normal’ that we weren’t satisfied with our normal, and that we should create a new normal for the sake of our happiness and in the interest of the greater good. Because what if all we really need to give back is happiness. And what if keeping us all together laughing really is what it’s all about?

Mankind are always happy for having happiness. So if you make them happy now, you make them happy twenty years from now by the memory of it. ” ~Sydney Smith

What makes you happy, and how are you giving back happiness?