Not long before my grandma passed away, she started her "happiness file." It's a simple recipe box filled with index cards. There are dividers for A–Z, months, and a section for photographs. Who knew a conglomeration of plastic and paper could offer courage and hope? Who knew it could help someone have the strength to keep living? Well, apparently, my grandma had an inkling...
She'd write down every good and happy thing she could think of: advice and words of wisdom. And whenever she felt depressed, like a burden, or even sorry for herself, she'd open the file and feel at peace once more.She could make it through life... for her family. And her own positivity somehow showed the way.
My grandma has been gone for quite a while, but the happiness file helps me feel like she's still with me. I love seeing her handwriting and reading her words. Anything from "Let people live their own lives!" to "Who are you becoming and how does that relate to the person you want to be?"
Just last week, I read something she'd written not long before her death: "Take a second look."
I thought about her words all day, and even when I went to a potluck at our local synagogue that night, I wondered what my grandma had meant. It's just that normally, the index cards' meanings are obvious, but this one seemed different.
At the potluck, a woman I'd never met sat next to me, and after a moment of chatting, I decided to tell her about the words my grandma had written. "What do you think she meant by 'take a second look'?" I asked. "Something about perspective?"
"I think so," she replied. "That reminds me of something I've recently started doing." The woman explained how she leaves for work around 2 a.m. "I hated it," she said. "Hated the dark. The drive. The cold. Everything. Then, one morning, I decided to look up at the stars, take a few deep breaths, and just appreciate the morning. Now, it's one of my favorite parts of the day just because I took a second look."
It was incredible how she let go of fear and accepted the moment. "Your story about living in the present," I finally said, "is so inspiring. You know, just the other day, a friend of mine said that when the sun is out, we can't appreciate the beauty of the stars. I guess a lot of his loved ones have died, but he believes that stars are their campfires in Heaven. So at night, he sees those campfires and remembers all the people looking out for him even on the other side."
She smiled so thoughtfully. "When I go to work tomorrow, I'll remember the campfires in the sky. That's beautiful."
After I drove home, I gazed at the stars and thought about my grandma, her happiness file, and the campfires in Heaven. Maybe she's up there, roasting marshmallows and thinking about the irony that her happiness file helped her so much, and now it's helping me. I'm so grateful for her wisdom and the friendships I've made because of her words. Who knew I'd go to a potluck, meet a stranger, and leave inspired by a new-found friend?
