Happy Like That

This past Friday was a gorgeous October day. Everyone was excited to get through classes because fall break lay ahead and the campus emptied quickly in the early afternoon. My office was summer-warm and bright as I graded quizzes in the silence, biding my time before an outdoor meet-up with an acquaintance. We had a nice talk over coffee that stretched over an hour or more. Eventually, I felt the pull of home and my thoughts drifted to worrying about who needed me there and whether I had selfishly stayed in my conversation too long.

The drive home was truly spectacular, the stuff New England is famous for – the sinking sun set off the red-orange-yellow leaves against a perfectly clear sky. In such beauty, it should have been a peaceful drive after a productive and good day. Instead, I felt a nagging despair. It worried me in its bleakness.

 It was more than being sad that Chris was gone, though that is part of it. I did wish I was going home to a long weekend of family fun as it seemed “everyone” else was doing. I longed for lighthearted banter amongst the four of us and later conversation just the two of us. My thought process cycled through remembering what I used to have and what I would face when I got home. A mess. A kitchen I would clean up alone. Paperwork and junk mail piling up. Going to bed in silence.

The long weekend hopeless feeling was like staring into a dark abyss and seeing no bottom, no way out, no path forward.

I will never be happy like I used to be. I will never be happy like that again.

Things went from bad to worse. I woke up Saturday morning in a fog, nearly paralyzed with apathy. Minutes and hours passed, but I accomplished very little as I plodded through mundane chores. Then, I turned that lethargy on myself in a barrage of negative thoughts and self-loathing. Later in the day, the tears started and wouldn’t stop. I was in a dark place, and a very snotty and swollen-faced one at that. Talk about a mess…

I will never be happy again.

As I settled down for sleep later, the aggravating cause of my despair became clear. My eyes and nose were not just irritated and running from crying; some nasty bug was hitting me hard. Feeling physically bad had triggered emotional distress before I even realized I was sick. The moment of relieved recognition that there was a reason for feeling so terrible quickly gave way to a different awful thought: I have a virus.

Oh no, what if it is that virus???

A specific worry gave my brain something to do besides despair. Well past midnight, I researched options and made my plan from my bed. I ordered a package of rapid home covid tests for pickup at my pharmacy in the morning. I could use curbside pickup and answer the question about covid with minimal exposure to other people. I would worry about my unvaccinated child once I found out, and I would figure out how to manage two weeks of isolation if needed.

It wasn’t needed. I had an old-fashioned cold, 2019 style. I’ve never been so happy to have a bad cold!

Did you catch that? I felt happy.

I laughed a little at myself. Obviously, I feel happy at times. It’s impossible to be unhappy when a 60-pound coonhound is trying to climb into your lap and wash your face while frantically wagging her tail. It’s impossible to be unhappy when your ten-year-old makes you picture after picture declaring you to be the Best Mom Ever. It’s impossible to be unhappy when your teen is making leaps forward intellectually, socially, and emotionally.  I do indeed have some happiness in every day. Sometimes I am even overtly happy.

Still, I had not been completely wrong. Chris is gone and he cannot come back, so I will not be happy like that again. The feeling I had when we were together cannot be replicated. It was special, and it is over. It turns my insides quivery with panic again to write that truth and lean into it.

There is peace to be found in the other truth, though. I can be happy again.

It just won’t ever be happy like that again.