The thing about being happy...


...is that sometimes you feel guilty for being as happy as you are.

And the thing about time alone to work and to think is that sometimes that time alone isn't as beneficial as you want.

Take today for instance. Ty's with his grandparents and I wake up happy and in the air and feeling so very blessed, which I am. Don't ever think for an instance that I'm not.

So I get up and start my day with two cups of coffee, even spoiling myself to some caramel syrup in one.

I text back and forth a bit with Mystery Man and the day is good.

Life is good.

So I get on the lawn-mower and start mowing the grass that's needed cutting for more than a month now.

And I sing.

Like I always do.

I sing at the top of my lungs.

First I start with Let the Waters Rise by Mikeschair because that's just soooo my very favorite song right now (aside from Your Hands by JJ Heller, but I don't know that one well enough yet--having only discovered it last night--to go singing it at the top of my lungs in the middle of the free world)

And then I wander through a list of songs until I realize I'm singing Homesick by MercyMe.

Which is one of the most therapeutic songs for me.

Most of the time.

Today it was heart-wrenching and seems to have torn my very soul from my chest.

Why?

Because I'm happy.

And he wasn't.

Because I get to experience things he'll never know because he gave up.

He quit.

And I get so mad at him over that.

And then I feel bad because you can't be mad at the dead, right?

But I am. And I wish I could hit him and tell him how selfish he was and how stupid it was that he just gave up and never even tried to find a better day.

Because there are better days.

Always.

I've seen my share of low points. And I've savored my share of high and wonderful and mighty points.

And he never will.

Because he quit.

And as much as it hurts me to live without him, it hurts me even more that I resent that his loss can cast an occasional pall on my happiness.

Because I wish so bad that he could have know as much joy as he knew hurt.

I wish so badly that he could see life from my eyes and see that for as much hurt as you endure, you'll find twice as much joy in the long run.

I just wish I had him, alive and happy, instead of this hurt and this anger and this ache.
Ashley Wife & Mom

Ashley is a thirty-something wife and mother of two boys. She enjoys spending time with her family, as well as reading and decorating their home. Her blogging adventures began in 2006 as a single mother and have carried on through marriage and a new life with a husband, a ten-year-old, and an infant.