A very kind person made a comment to me the other day. She had looked at some of my Facebook photos and then said, “I’m so glad to see you are happy now after all you’ve been through.” That one really got me thinking.

How do you measure happiness? Smiling for a photo? Laughing at a joke? What does happiness look like to someone from the outside looking in? How can you really know?

Would I consider myself happy, now? That’s a really hard and fast no. Do I have moments of happiness? Of course. I hope I have a lot of them. Am I an all around happy person? Hell to the no.

I have a hard time believing I will ever be fully happy. It feels like complete happiness is unattainable without one of my children. And if I could get there, I would hate myself for betraying my daughter. How could I be fully happy without getting to kiss her sweet face every morning? That feels like a betrayal to Blake.

I don’t know why that comment provoked so much thought. Maybe it’s all the wishes for peace and happiness since Blake died. Maybe it’s my jealously of complete and happy looking families. Or maybe it’s just the place we all want to get to.

This post is full of more question than answers. That pretty much sums up how my brain works these days.

Let me ask, do you consider yourself completely happy?