A couple of weeks ago my youngest asked me, “Can we go skating today Daddy.”
I love skating. I love my boys. I love skating with my boys. So, “Yes, (kid 3) we can go skating,” so we went to the arena, only to find that the open skate was full.
So we went to the swamp, only to find that the swamp foliage was too tall this year, and the ice was unskateable.
So we went to the local small lake, where the ice was good enough for ice fishing, and we spent an hour and a half skating around, practicing stick handling, passing and shooting.
Lately I’ve been putting a lot of thought into how to live the last third of my life without being defined by my depression. One thing I have discovered is that bringing happiness to others brings happiness to me.
That Sunday, I spent an hour on the pond, putting a smile on kid 3’s face and his happiness lifted me up in ways I don’t have the words to describe.
The devil is in the details.
It is the small things that make huge differences. When we found the arena fully booked, and our usual ponds overgrown, I could have explained to the boy that sometimes you don’t get what you want, that disappointment is a part of life but I would have hated myself for doing so, because I knew there was one more thing I could try.
Trying that last little thing, and succeeding, made his day. And through his day, mine.
Even more, I lived another day without the grey mist of depression descending upon me.