My mother had a difficult and tragic life and yet she was one the the happiest and most content people I have ever known. In truth I have never quite figured out how she managed to be so upbeat about life, so loving even toward people who avoided her. In spite of all of her numerous trials she somehow managed to be happy. 

It can be trite and unsympathetic to ask those who are suffering to cheer up and find something wonderful to feel good about their in their lives. There are truly times and situations that are so profoundly difficult that to suggest that they look on the brights side would be uncaring and maybe even cruel. I always marveled at the way my mother found happiness in the smallest of things and how she managed to pop back so blissfully from her long bouts with mental illness. I think the key to her joy came from thinking more about other people than herself. 

One might suggest that my mother’s happiness was artificially created by the psychotropic drugs that she took to control her bipolar disorder, but the truth is that she was never fully compliant in taking her medication. Furthermore, when she did agree to take various prescriptions they tended to mute her emotions rather than send her into a state of euphoria. It was my mother’s generosity and unconditional love of the people around her that made her so delightful. She was like an innocent child in her embrace of people and her satisfaction with life as it was. If she had her radio and an Astros baseball game was on the air she was in her own little heaven. 

My mother spent her days spreading joy. She saw greatness in even the most forgettable person. Those who knew her well loved her because of her almost innocent way of making people feel special. Her generosity is legendary to this very day. She gave of herself to the very end of her life in spite of the limitations imposed on her by illness and a very meager income. What she offered to people was respect and compassion, immeasurable memories of someone who really understood and cared. Her devotion to people outside of herself distracted her from the many problems that beset her and kept her optimism blooming again and again. 

That is not to say that my mother was eternally bright and cheery. The chemicals roiling in her head had the power to send her into uncharacteristic depressions that were so deep that they temporarily paralyzed her and left her sitting in the dark inside herself. Such moments would be followed by a mania that was not so much a joyful time as an inability to turn off a torrent of thoughts that kept her awake and incoherent. 

At such times my brothers and I went into action getting her the help that she needed, returning her to a state of mind that was familiar and reassuring. We knew she was well again when the angelic smiles returned to her face and her thoughts focused on doing things for the people that she knew and loved. She understood pain and sorrow like few people. She listened to those who were in the clutches of sorrow without saying a word. She simply loved them and hugged them and helped them to heal enough to carry on. 

For many of us happiness is indeed a choice but others are embroiled in situations that are almost impossible to overlook. Sadness is not something that we humans can turn off as easily as simply deciding to do so. Horrific events take over thoughts and push people into a kind of darkness that they can only escape over time. We would do well to be patient with them, just be available for them without judgement or commentary. My mother understood this. She understood people and never had expectations for how she thought they should behave. She was simply there for them. 

I learned from my mother. She showed me how to look into the hearts of people who are hurting. I suppose she helped me to develop a kind of sixth sense for discerning when someone is in trouble emotionally. It has served me well in working with young people for decades. I learned how to see inside people’s hearts and how to hear what they were not saying out loud. I realized that souls can be broken so violently by tragedies that being happy again does not seem to be an option. The road to smiling again lies in having someone around who allows them to grieve properly for whatever they have lost. It happens when they finally realize that some pain is so intense that it will never totally leave, but admitting it is a step toward smiling once again. 

We should always be aware that happiness is not in fact something we choose or force on others. It comes from within and often takes time to revive. We must be patient with ourselves and with others whenever life deals its blows. Sometimes the profound sorrow has to be acknowledged before the smiles return. Only a healed heart is able to choose to be happy.