Babies and small children are either happy or not, and never the twain shall meet. I adore the fact that they are so transparent, the random clapping of hands, gurgling, laughing and blowing raspberries are the warm squishy moments that pull at the heart strings of every parent.
By the same measure when they're not happy they leave you in no doubt of how they are feeling. I, for the most part admire this quality and would often, dearly love to lie on the floor and throw a tantrum or lob all my toys out of the pram when I'm pissed off. Unfortunately, I can't, because, allegedly, I'm a grown up. Very young children are untouched by the world, honest and unconditioned by their environment: for them it 'is what it is' and that's what makes them funny and endearing.
As we grow that changes, and naturally, there are times we rebel and resist fervently what society demands of us until, usually parental sanctions or the awakenings of empathy persuade us to conform. Life is rarely ever happy or sad as an adult, it is interspersed, hence 'the glass half full' scenario. If 'the glass is half empty' that is the path you have chosen and to be honest it never works out well.
I have attended few weddings that haven't had Corinthians 13. 1-13 in the liturgy, 'love is patient, love is kind........' and personally always thought that whilst a 'nice' idea it wasn't really achievable in a romantic sense. In a real life sense for me the last verse is probably as The Beatles said 'what it's all about'. I was always taught you should never start a sentence with and or but however 'And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love' is the closing verse of the reading. This, to me, is true for without love how can there be faith or hope?
Today is the eighth anniversary of my friend 'Ken Barlow''s daughter, Hannah's, death. I hate using the word 'death' in relation to a beautiful little girl who had a smile that would crack the sternest frown and had more animation going on than Walt Disney. Hannah was a beautiful, funny, happy little girl who was taken in tragic and difficult family circumstances. In her short life she delivered a serious dose of love and happiness to her family. Like most toddlers she was a drug, affectionate, funny, cute, loving, all consuming and her loss is huge. Bigger than any of us can imagine because if you're a parent the thought of losing your child is somewhere you just don't go, you don't even read it in the paper or watch it on the news, you turn the page or change the channel. It is too painful to perceive.
This is SAD to the max, how can there be any happiness found? The best analogy I have ever heard for grief comes from Hannah's mum. When asked by a friend who had also lost a child 'Will I ever feel joy again?' this was her response. 'You go in a shop and try on a dress, you love it, it's perfect and know it will always be in your wardrobe. You come to wear the dress and find it has a hole in it, it's still fantastic and you still love it, feel good in it but you're always aware and never forget there's a hole in it'. There is always something missing and you never come to terms with it you just learn to live with it better.
Every year we remember Hannah's birthday and the anniversary of her death. We come together celebrate her life and mourn her loss, in prayer at Mass and afterwards with a picnic in the park. People who know 'Ken' less well than me often ask me how she copes, gets up every day. Initially I respond, because she has to, she has a husband and other children who depend on her. Where does she find the strength? Love, and subsequently faith and hope are what fuel her life. She has an amazing family who along with friends support and share. They can't take away her pain but if they could all of them would.
I feel fortunate to be her friend, she reaps what she sows and I know that whatever I needed of her she would give if she could. On one of the saddest thought provoking days in my calendar. I never fail to be inspired by her and in extreme sadness feel deep love, faith and hope. Hannah, you are always in our thoughts and prayers not just today, but every day. You are alive in all our hearts but especially your Mum's and family's. That kind of love is limitless and crosses all boundaries. X