Showing posts with label Prayer for Happiness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prayer for Happiness. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

September 16: Topmost Car, Niece, Prayer for Happiness

As they passed the Ferris wheel, Fern gazed up at it and wished she were in the topmost car with Henry Fussy at her side.

It's difficult to see children grow up sometimes.  Mrs. Arable certainly struggles with the idea of Fern being interested in Henry Fussy.  Simply letting her daughter wander off into the Fair without her makes Mrs. Arable a little weepy.  And the highlight of the Fair, for Fern, is not Wilbur's victory.  It's being stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel with Henry.


My niece got married this weekend.  Soon, she will be heading downstate with her new husband.  It's difficult to think of her as a grownup, let alone a married woman.  She's heading out into the world to carve out a new life, create a new family for herself.  Yet, like Mrs. Arable, I can't seem to get past the fact that she and her husband still seem so young.

I'm not worried about them.  They're both smart and resourceful.  And they are really in love.  I was talking with my five-year-old son last night, and he said to me, "She is going away now, and I won't see her any more, right?"  He was genuinely sad at the idea of my niece not being around any more.  I told him that he would see her at holidays and other special times, but it didn't really cheer him up.  He doesn't quite grasp the idea of separation.  His world isn't quite that big yet.

I know my son will adjust to my niece's new existence.  The next time he sees her, he may even refuse to give her a hug, because that's just the way little boys are.  Love is malleable.  He's going to take his feelings about my niece and mold them, like a lump of playdough, into something he understands.  A fish.  Bear.  Goblin.  Heart.

My prayer tonight is for my niece's happiness as she heads out into the world.  I pray that she will always know love and kindness.  That she will never feel want or hunger.  And that, when difficult times arise, she and her husband will know they are never alone.

This is Saint Marty's hope for her.

Home is where the heart is

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

July 30: Shut Up, You Suck, Prayer for Happiness

"I said I'm not going back to school.  You can do what you want to do, but I'm not going back to school," she said.  "So shut up."  It was the first time she ever told me to shut up.  It sounded terrible.  God, it sounded terrible.  It sounded worse than swearing.  She still wouldn't look at me either, and every time I sort of put my hand on her shoulder or something, she wouldn't let me.

Phoebe is pissed at Holden in the above paragraph, and she shows her anger with words.  She tells her brother to "shut up."  When words like that come out of kids' mouths, it does sound worse than swearing.  Holden's right.  Phoebe's "shut up" is Holden's "fuck you."

My four-year-old son is similar to Phoebe when he gets angry.  Last week, we were visiting my sister-in-law.  When it was time to leave, my son decided he wanted to stay.  When I informed him he didn't really have the option to remain behind, my son stomped away from me and yelled, "Well, you suck!  Your car sucks!  I don't want to go home!  Home sucks!"  Every time he said the word "suck," I wanted to die.

Yes, I know my son was only throwing a temper tantrum, and I know my son is only four years old.  But I've been struggling over the last week or so to feel content with my life.  So, today, I'm going to pray a Please-Don't-Let-My-Life-Suck Prayer.  You could also call it a Prayer for Happiness.

Dear God of all things that don't suck,

Hi.  It's me again.  The guy whose son thinks everything sucks.  (By the way, I didn't teach him that.)

I'm writing to ask for happiness.  I'm not talking about J. K. Rowling-sized happiness.  I don't need a billion dollars.  (I wouldn't turn that down, if it's in Your plan, though.)  I just want some small piece of happiness.  For instance, I entered a poetry chapbook contest a while ago.  Winning that contest would totally not suck.

I'm not demanding anything.  I'm not greedy.  All I want is something good to happen in my life.  Something that doesn't suck.  You've already taken away the job at the university and given me an $800 repair on my car.  How about a small, insignificant success?  Something that will make my son realize I don't suck, that I drive an OK car, and that our house isn't a roach motel.

I know You're busy, so I'll make it easy for You:  poetry chapbook, thousand-dollar prize, publication.  That not too much to ask.  We can talk about bigger things later.

Your loving child,

Saint Marty

At least in my son's opinion...