I need some happy.

The weight of the Not Happy of late is making my knees buckle, though I’m still standing.

Yesterday, my children and I released red balloons into a blue sky for their father who ended his life earlier this year. I bought birthday cupcakes for them to mark the day, and we played Queen and The Beatles for him. For them.

I wrote “You can suck it.” on my balloon, in tiny letters so they couldn’t see, and I sent it into the sky.

After friends and family went home, I began to walk up the stairs to my room. On the sixth stair my legs began to slow. By the eighth stair, I began to weep. I planted my feet solidly on stair number nine, and didn’t move until the tears stopped. It didn’t take long.

This morning I am reminded that Horrible Things happen to many people, and that both eases and adds to my grief. I am craving real smiles and belly laughs. I want to see eyes that are twinkling with joy and life and pleasure. I am malnourished and I need to be fed.

Feed me.