The Happiest Time of One's Life

My mom has been telling me that she’s currently living the happiest years of her life. At first, I was incredulous – she’s almost 67 years old after all. “Well, think about it,” she told me, “I used to shoulder the burdens of taking care of you and your sister, as well as your grandparents who were getting old and sick, while working full-time as a teacher to support you both. I was spread so thin that I could not relax at all. Now, you and your sister are grown up. My own parents have passed away. I don’t have too much money but I have enough for myself, so of course I am having the time of my life.” When I asked her whether she was happier when she herself was a kid, she definitively said no, “ I never liked the idea of exams, and I really did not enjoy being a student, having to prepare for exams all the time. No, I was not that happy as a student. Now I do not have to take any exams!”

Then I had a chat with a friend on how our observations have led us to think that many people in our circle are a lot less happy than before, or just not very happy in general. Her comment was, “perhaps it is mid-life crisis, or having too many responsibilities for kids, parents, work, etc.” So my mom was right after all…

With my particular obsession with Winston, I am probably an outlier as opposed to a typical example of a working parent. This morning, when Winston woke up a lot earlier than usual, looking miserable and crying in pain (but I did not know what’s wrong with him at the time), I felt that my heart was going to break, and that I burst into tears myself as well. Maybe it is the acid reflux? Maybe it is the eczema? Or maybe he’s caught a cold since his nose sounds stuffy? After giving him his Zantac and his milk, he gradually quieted down, but looked rather subdued and totally not like his usual laughing self. I find myself thinking about him the whole time at work. The worry for one’s kid, I have been told, will never go away. So I can’t say that I am having the happiest time of my life, despite how completely I am in love with Winston. In fact, perhaps it is due to my excessive love for Winston that I have always reacted too strongly to any little discomfort of his. When he’s laughing, he looks like the happiest baby on earth. And seeing him laugh makes me believe that probably the happiest time of one’s life is infancy and childhood, although we remember nothing about our infancy and very little about our childhood.

Perhaps it is ironic that when we are truly happiest, we are not even aware of it. On the other hand, that gives me some sense of comfort that Winston will forget about all the pains and discomforts in his baby years as well. He will not have any memory of his baby years, good or bad. But I should do my best to provide that memory to him when he is older, so that he knows that he was so deliriously happy as a baby.

And if my mom is correct, Winston will know that he will become extremely happy again when he’s retired. It is when he has to care for his family while building a career that he might feel stress. But that is many years from now, so I do not have to worry about that, do I?