By Gwen Rockwood, newspaper columnist and mom of 3
“I forgot how nice it is to be able to walk all the way around my bed,” he said. “And it doesn’t matter when I need to go to the bathroom because there’s always one empty.”
That’s what our son Jack said after two days of living back at home following his college graduation two weeks ago in Michigan. His new job starts Monday, but for now, he’s unpacking after a cross-country drive in his jam-packed Mazda.
We laughed once we realized he was noticing what’s different about living at our house versus the small rental he shared with four roommates in Michigan. The bedrooms were so cramped that mattresses had to be shoved against at least two walls, and the one and only tiny bathroom in the house was shared by four guys plus a revolving door of buddies and girlfriends. I visited that house once during Jack’s college years, but I didn’t go into the bathroom for fear I’d never be able to unsee it.
Jack’s observation made me remember how much joy can come from seemingly small luxuries. Perhaps the human capacity for happiness is closely tied or in direct proportion to our ability to be thrilled by the little things.
Example 1: Tom came in from the backyard a week ago looking like he’d just struck oil next to the pear tree. Instead, what he’d discovered is that the small container garden he planted several weeks ago is now producing broccoli. “You’ve got to see how good my broccoli looks,” he said, holding up a dark green floret as proof. “It’s amazing how fast it grew!” Who needs a midlife crisis motorcycle when you’ve got broccoli florets growing right in your own backyard?
Example 2: We both whooped it up at Home Depot last weekend when we bought storage containers for the explosion of stuff our 19-year-old daughter dragged home from college for her summer break. Not only did we get big plastic bins and lids, we also found a coordinating “tote taxi” we never knew existed.
At first glance, the tote taxi is just a tray with wheels. But it’s made to hold a bin so securely that additional bins can be stacked on top. Then you simply wheel that tower of bins to its destination. Our middle-aged backs and sore legs rejoiced at the thought of less lifting and carrying when it’s time to do next fall’s move back to campus.
Example 3: Every now and then, you get lucky and find some small thing that just makes you happy every time you see or use it. That happened earlier this year when I ran across a unique match holder. Part of my after-work ritual includes lighting a pretty candle in the living room where we watch TV or read. While those plastic stick lighters with a trigger are functional, they’re not too cute.
But this stoneware cup I found holds plenty of long matches as it sits atop a curved saucer covered in striker plate material. When it’s time to light the candle, I pluck a match out of the dish, swipe it across the saucer, and watch it flame to life. It’s the perfect blend of function, form, and style — not to mention how it literally “sparks joy.”
Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her books are available on Amazon.
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