Last week wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. I was expecting to be sitting in a fetal position looking out of a window the whole time, but I was just thankful to be around my family. My brothers were home from school in Arkansas. We all stayed at my parents’ house for a few nights. Jack was…a one year old. And he learned how to go “maa-a-a-a” when you cue him with the word “goat”. It’s because we went out to the farm, I’m sure.
I discovered as last week passed that, well, I don’t want to be sad this week either. I just don’t. This whole entire year I’ve grieved Nate, and I can grieve him any time I want to. If I feel like being sad, I will. But right now, I don’t want to. I want to love and laugh instead. So I’m going to. I’ve decided that the 27th doesn’t have to be a bad day just because it is supposed to be. It is, after all, also the first day that Nathan ever went to Heaven. He knows I still miss him, but I want to laugh. He’s laughing.
So, I’m not hanging around my house this week. I’m going back to the farm, because both Jack and I loved it there. We can milk goats, make “maaa-a-a-a” noises at them, play the guitar, dig stuff up, rise when the sun rises. You know, all that farm-y kind of stuff. Maybe I’ll wear dresses when I’m digging in the dirt (with jeans and maybe long underwear on underneath, because it’s COLD here now). Girls should wear dresses more. It’s the article of clothing that we get to ourselves. Well, besides bras and girl underwear, but you can’t (or should I say, shouldn’t) see those. So, dresses in the dirt it is. That makes me happy. Maybe everyone on the farm will want to play Monopoly, too. Maybe they won’t. If they do, we’ll play. If not, Jack and I will make our own fun. Ha. I will not be sad because I am forced to be. I will change the rules on my own grief.
Happiness is, after all, a choice.

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