scribblechic

It began with a line from the movie “We Bought a Zoo”.        Their happy is too loud. The little girl in the movie identified the noisy sounds of a neighbor’s party as a loud happy. A week later, between the bedtime routines of bath and books, my daughter assured me it is okay for my happy to be noisy.

My happy is quiet and content. For me, happy is a noun. My daughter’s happy is a verb; she moves with joy and passion, those closest to her cannot escape the emotion that flows between everything she does. From painting to swinging beneath a brilliant sky, her company carries an exuberance that tugs at your smile and dares you to keep from giggling.

Most often, my daughter is the person that makes me forget myself; I get tangled in the curious language that encompasses her wisdom and humor. Her thoughts are as genuine as they are amusing and somewhere in her delivery I applaud my good fortune that my days are sprinkled with spontaneity and smiles.

My little girl is the first person to reach for our hands, tend to our hurts, and celebrate our accomplishments. Her happy weaves itself around my contentment, the balance of her noise and my silence a lovely duet.

Tagged: Daughter, Happiness, Musings