In charge of my happiness

My 89 year old father likes to reminisce. When I "visit" on Tuesday (actually serve and clean up dinner) he will tell stories of his boyhood or the early years of parenting. He tells of spending the summer in a small cabin on the lake or camping in the north. I never realized that he had been offered a position that would have given him a substantial salary, but that he turned it down, becauuse he figured that less stress and family time were more important than money. He tells me of camping, "It didn't cost much money, but we had a good time." I wouldn't trade the special day last Wednesday with my mother and niece for any amount of money. We went to the nail salon and the flower shop to see the Christmas trees. Spending time with friends and family at my nephew's historical home, chatting, joking, laughing and then playing Phrase Party with my children, niece, great nieces and great nephew (10 of us playing the game) created priceless memories. A few weeks ago, I read that it is not my job to make other people happy. And this idea was reaffirmed yesterday at the Thanksgiving dinner by my sisters-in-law. I am grateful for family and friends, for the many blessings that I have. I am happy when I bundle my dogs into their sweaters and walk a mile on a sunny day or under overcast skies with rain sprinkling on me. I am outside walking past the pizza store and the chicken restaurant. I work in a shop with beautiful storefront windows. I can sip a hot carob drink with a dollop of whipped cream, with my tablet in my hand, in front of the electric fireplace. I ride my horse, Hope, (actually my teacher's horse) and trot around the arena, or trot diagonals or half circles. I learn martial arts and participate in kickfit classes. I listen to pop music on the radio. So I am content and peaceful, and in charge of my happiness.