|On our honeymoon, at the historic White Horse Tavern|
I have thought a lot about that since. You know, walking the dog, doing the endless laundry, I ask myself, Diane, are you happy?
And I'm really not sure...
Webster's defines happiness as:
1: a state of well-being and contentment; also: a pleasurable satisfaction 2: aptness
Which makes me wonder, first, just what the heck is "aptness" and what's that got to do with happiness?
I knew happiness. I knew it quite well. Bob and I were really very happy together before the stroke.
|Hamming it up with a mermaid at Weeki Wachee|
We absolutely loved tacky Florida tourist traps. Like the one above.
And historic sites.
And mom and pop diners.
|On the Gulf of Mexico|
And just being together. Living life. Bob always told me, "Life is an adventure!" He always told me, "Follow your dreams." I loved that about him. As I was always a bit more reserved. He let me spread my wings. Be myself. Think of myself as a writer, and not just a woman who writes as a hobby.
Yes, I do know this: once, I was very very happy. I think these pictures show it.
But am I happy now? Since the stroke? That's a good question. Especially for a gal who was up at 1:30 a.m. cleaning diarrhea off the bed sheets this morning.
Maybe a better question would be, am I unhappy?
Webster's defines unhappy as:
1: unlucky, unfortunate 2: sad, miserable
Certainly we've been unlucky and unfortunate, but I am certainly not sad or miserable. At least, not often. Not always...
So if one is not "unhappy" does that make one "happy"?
Which brings me back to, well, what the heck is "aptness" anyway? So I have to look that up too:
Webster's defines apt/aptness as:
1: well adapted: suitable 2: having an habitual tendency 3: quick to learn.
Hmm, guess that does describe me.
So to answer the question, according to Webster's, I am quite apt, so that does make me happy, after all. I think...