The eye of the beholder

Gabriel, waiting for his surgery to begin.

Happiness.  Thats what they say, right?  I heard something perfect today, "happiness isn't a goal or a destination, its a decision."
We all have hundreds of reasons to be less than happy.  We wait and wait, and hope that life deals us cards that will give us that ever after, that happiness we've been waiting for.  We all wake up, and use life challenges as reasons to be unhappy.  Its true though, happiness doesn't come from luck or destiny, it is an active decision that we have to choose when we open our eyes every morning.

It's always amazed me how little kids seem so happy. As adults, we blame responsibility.  We think that without a care in the world, we'd be happy too.  Some kids, like Gabriel, balance between that line.  Sure, at four years old he is very much a kid.  He's vibrant, energetic, and clever as any preschooler you know.  Gabriel also carries lots of worries and responsibility.  Just today, Gabriel touched the skin of his cousins banana, and become proactive.  He found his antibacterial wipes in his backpack, and cleaned his hands.  Mid-day Gabriel let me know he needed a breathing treatment.  Before I was able to listen to his lungs, and decide which treatment would be best, he did.  He told me how he felt, So that I could administer the medicine he needed.  Gabriel has responsibilities, just like those that most grown-ups use as excuses not to be happy.  The difference?  Gabriel is the happiest human I've ever met.

As a Mommy, as a natural worrier, they're are days I want to stomp my feet a whine about how this sucks!  They're are times when I get in a funk and sulk about the health of Gabriel, and my closest relatives.  Like any adult, I feel the 'why him, or why them?', and the 'it's not fair!'  I think one of my most important jobs, as Gabriel's Mom, is to raise a happy child.  Yes, I want him healthy, yes, his education is important, but in a world of negative influence, and misery, its vital that he grows up feeling blessed and lucky.  Just this morning,  "Aw, that must be so hard.  Wow, that's so sad.." a nice woman said when I explained why Gabriel couldn't share snacks at church.  I answered as I always do, "Nope, no we do just fine!  He does very well, and he loves what he can eat!"  As hard as it can be to snap myself out of depression to keep a light atmosphere at home, its especially difficult when everyone else wants to be sad for us.  Thank you.  I appreciate your compassion, and I value your kindness, but please, tell him how great he's doing.  Tell Gabriel how smart he his for knowing his diet, or how responsible he is for carrying his medicine everywhere he goes.  Please don't tell him how sad it is.  When I hear singing through the grocery store, or I hear him yell "Hi!!!!" to every person we pass, I grin, because I know how happy Gabriel is, regardless.

When we went to the hospital for Gabriel surgery earlier this week, we checked in at the pediatric surgical floor.  The floor was stocked with pictures, and toys.  In every room there were books, and nurses who worked with children all day.  It was different from what we were used to.  Pediatric nurses are special.  They kneel down when they talk, and they acknowledge the patient, not just the parent.  Pediatric nurses don't just go through the motions, they show genuine concern, and care.  More then they're actions, they're eyes show compassion.  This staff of pediatric nurses prepped kids for surgeries everyday.  That's their job!  They take vitals, ask questions to fill in the paperwork, they start IV's and cover laps with warm blankets.  As special as each one of these nurses were, they thought Gabriel was even more.  As many patients as they work with every day, they were amazed to see a 4 year old smile, while waiting for surgery.  They said hello, and giggled just to be in his silly, happy presence, and then, one at a time, they called in fellow nurses to show off just how special Gabriel was.  He laughed, and played.  He asked questions when he needed to, and he patiently waited 3 hours until it was time for his procedure.  When it was time for his IV, he asked me to cover his eyes, and took a deep breath.  Gabriel didn't scream or kick, he didn't try and take his arm back, and he didn't cry.  He just took deep breaths, and waited for the line to be in place.  I was in awe.  I've never seen an adult take it so well.

 Im proud of Gabriel everyday.  Usually, what he's learned, or how he's behaved makes me proud.  That day, I was proud just to see him happy.  That's the goal in life isn't it?  To be happy, and to live happily ever after?  I realized that day that Gabriel has mastered what most people spend a life time figuring out.  In Gabriel's eyes, life is good.  And that's the only person who's opinion matters.