Five years or so ago I was in San Francisco for business. I had several days off, and one of those days I toured Chinatown. I remember a short elderly Chinese man standing on a milk crate on a corner, right in front of those stereotypical Chinese restaurants with the long body of a smoked duck in the window. The Chinese man had a smile fit to split his face open, and a sign in his hands. I don't remember what the sign said, all I can remember is what he was saying.

"Everybody happy!" he said with an immense amount of joy in his voice. "Everybody happy! Happy happy happy!"

And this is all he said.

And all these years later, I still often hear his voice and those words.

Everybody happy. Happy happy happy.

But what happens if you're not? What happens if a giving of your opinion goes so horribly wrong that the face of everything around you is affected? What happens if you don't feel comfortable, don't feel secure?

The worst argument so far, and no clear way out of it. Does time heal all wounds? Shall we brush it under the carpet? Do we decide that something's fundamentally changed? Will the holidays and our following trip to the States simply rectify things on its own? For once, I really don't know how to fix something. We both are outraged and angry, and both of us feel the other doesn't have a leg to stand on with their righteous indignation.

In my head I heard: I can't handle this anymore.

My heart replied: Handle what, babe? Can't handle babies? Your relationship? Working? Christmas? Thinking blogging breathing cleaning being? Can't handle any of those? Because you don't really have a choice. They are all a part of you.

My head realized my heart was right. And then it added: They keep saying things will get easier. WHEN will it? When?

My heart didn't have an answer. Typically, it checked out when I needed it most.

Today is the winter solstice, and the darkest day of the year. Even though in our house that day was Thursday, I'm not looking forward to the darkness. I don't want Christmas to come and be like this. It's supposed to be a great time - I love Christmas. It's babies' first Christmas. Yet all I want to do is take down the few decorations I have up and crawl into bed with the little twin love muffins. Not that that will help.

Everybody happy. Happy happy happy.

Except when you're not.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 08:05 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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