Happiness

I was a happy child. Who wouldn't be happy living in a small town where "everybody knows your name?" I was popular (in my own eyes) because most people in town knew my father, ergo, I was popular because I was his child, therefore, most people knew me.

My mom and dad didn't have any children for seven years after they were married. So, when I arrived (and not too distantly thereafter my siblings) they were thrilled, and, of course, I was treated like a princess -- a poor princess, but a princess nonetheless.

I was special. I lived in a special town -- not a well-known town -- a sleepy town typical of the towns you read about -- main street, churches, tree-lined streets, most people riding bicycles, etc. As I've mentioned, I loved living in that small town. And, I really feel like my children missed something because we only lived in a small town for three years and they were very, very young and don't remember.

As I've mentioned, our extended family -- our relatives -- were mostly Italian -- noisy, boisterous, loving Italians. We were always laughing and seemingly happy. I was always glad to be in the presence of my cousins and aunts and uncles. We had fun even if all we were doing was talking.

Aunt Annie would get to giggling, then it would go down the line, and soon we'd all be rollicking with laughter (where did that expression come from?)

My cousin Betty never failed to make me chuckle. One time we were visiting Aunt Annie, with whom Betty lived, and I was taking a shower, fell in the tub, and cracked a couple of ribs. Well, you know how painful that is, even if you're stationary. Well, Betty started with the talking, and the laughter followed. It really hurt to laugh with broken ribs, and finally I told her to stop talking because talking led to laughter and laughter to pain.

My cousin David was another one who made us (the whole family) laugh. I guess it was his own happiness that caused that. He was always laughing.

Finally, I remember one time we were visiting my cousin Hannah's house for a swim party -- she had a "cement pond" in her back yard -- well, her back yard was a "cement pond." And she said something that I will never forget. She said, "Italians are happiest when they're miserable."

So you see, we're happy when we're happy, but we're also happy when we're not happy. It's in the genes.