Thursday, December 22, 2011
I think you make your own happiness: some people are miserable even when they have everything, others make the decision to be happy despite devastating loss. I know that at some point, after my mum died, I decided to be happy again.
Today, I was basking in the glow of two hours of child-free, last-minute Christmas shopping, waiting for a latte in one of my favourite cafes, when I picked up the paper. One moment, I was happy and content, the next I was shaking all over, the blood drained from my face, the sadness coarsing through me. On the front page was a photograph of my cousin with her wide smile and twinkly blue eyes. Last Christmas she was here, this Christmas she is not: she will never be older than 23. Seeing her face suddenly put everything into perspective: all the superficial crap we worry about, all the nonsense we indulge in, means nothing. When you lose someone that you love that much, you wonder if you will ever be happy again. This Christmas will be a horrible ordeal for her mum and dad and her three sisters, but I hope that, despite the sense of loss that will never ever go away, they will one day have happiness in their lives again.