Master of Happiness

This story deals with grief and survivors guilt and coping with loss.

Squeals of laughter poured through the house. Little feet trampled around as the youngsters chased each other, giggling as they ran. The happiness of everyone was radiant, covering them in an enraptured spirit.

While the excitement was intoxicating, there was a sadness among the adults of which the children were blissfully unaware. There was one of them missing, and his absence would forever be missed. It was in their eyes when they shared glances. An unshed tear that glistened in the corner, or a sharp intake of breath to stave off the ache in their chests.

Suddenly, the joyfulness was too much. She was about to stand when she fell into shadow. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Yes, please,” she said softly, taking his offered hand. She zipped her jacket as the sharp, cool air bit into her skin. “Thank you,” she said as they stepped off the porch.

“I could see it on your face that you needed a moment. They can be a little much sometimes,” he snickered.

“They can be, but it’s a welcome distraction. I was actually getting in my head a bit and was about to step outside anyway.” She subconsciously rubbed her chest where the ache was settling in. “It’s another holiday, another year, and another family member added, and he’s not here to see it. It’s hard to not miss him, especially now.”

The man responded, “It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to miss him. But you can’t let it stop you from being happy.”

She sighed and nodded. “I know. I’m having problems processing some things, and that’s a big one. I know I can’t get my happiness from anyone else. No matter how much I love them.” She looked at him. A knowing smile passed between them. Her cheeks flushed, and she was grateful for the darkness that hid it.

“But…” she started as she looked away, “I can’t help but feel guilty, which I know is ridiculous, and that I shouldn’t. We had this talk before he passed. He wanted me to be happy and to find someone else to be with. So, I don’t know why I’m feeling this guilt.”

“It’s understandable, the guilt. A bit of survivor’s guilt? Feeling like you didn’t love him as much as you thought you did?” he asked.

She pondered his words quietly as they walked. “Well damn,” she finally said with dry laugh. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” he chuckled.

“Read me so easily. See into my head better than I can.”

He sighed and shuffled his feet in the dirt. “This is more from experience. You forget I lost my first love, too. It was different, but everyone’s situation is. You were together for how many years?”

“Almost eleven. Married for 8.”

“That’s a long time to be with someone. Even longer if you didn’t love them,” he grinned wryly. “I have no doubt that you both loved each other very much. Anyone who has met you could see that. It sucks that the ones we have loved are no longer with us, but in a way, they are with us. They see all of us together, laughing at these silly kids. They see when we cry for them, and they don’t want us to. They want us all to be happy, to love and be loved, and to spoil these kids rotten. They’ll always be in our hearts.

           “The love we have for them will never go away. It won’t be diminished because we have found others to love. And anyone you find will understand that a piece of your heart will always belong to him. If they don’t understand, then they’re not for you.”

           “I know. I know I loved him, and that I will always love him. I know that I cannot change the past, and I did the best I could. All of this I know without a shadow of a doubt to irrevocably, unconditionally true,” she stressed. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

           “You keep going. You go on dates, and have feelings, and fall in love. You’ll get your heart broken again, but after everything, you’ll be okay. It’s completely normal, and it’s going to keep happening. You just have to keep telling yourself, ‘This is what he would want. He wants me to be happy.’” They had stopped walking and were facing each other now.

           “Thank you. I’m not back together, but it’s better, knowing where it’s coming from.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he squeezed her, as if he was trying to hold her together. “I love you,” she said softly as silent tears fell from her eyes, and her world felt just a little more whole.

           “I love you, too,” he said, holding onto her for another moment. As he pulled away, he asked, “Ready to go back in?” As if in response, a thunder of footsteps shook the nearby house.

           She laughed and wiped her eyes. “No, not yet, I don’t think.” She took a deep breath and looked into the clear sky. “I think I want to just look at the stars for a while.”

           “I’ll leave you to it then.” He began to walk away when she called out to him.

           “Will you stay? For a little bit? I could use some company. Just not that much,” she laughed, pointing to the house.

           “Of course. What are friends for?”

           They sat under the stars, talking, laughing, and sometimes doing nothing at all, until the steps inside abated. Their friendship was strong, and nothing would change that.

           Months later, the conversation had been moved to the back of her mind. She hadn’t thought much of it, but it would creep back to the forefront as she scrolled through dating sites. The occasional guilt would hit as she drove to dates or thought about potentially meeting someone new. But she would remember that she didn’t have to feel miserable. The guilt would no longer have its hold on her. She was the master of her own happiness.