Happiness can be elusive. It can appear one second and disappear the next. You may not even know it’s there until it’s gone. But even when happiness seems almost impossible, it can be obtained with a shift in perspective or simply a memory.
I volunteered at the Village, an elderly care home, this past summer. My jobs included delivering the mail to residents, sprucing up the building with decorations, and visiting one-on-one with residents.
Initially, I didn’t think much about these visits. There couldn’t be anything interesting to talk about with old people, right? Surely, they didn’t know anything about current events, the latest trends, or new technology. Their generation was so different from mine. I had no clue what lives the residents had led before arriving at old age, but as I got to know them my outlook – and life – drastically changed.
One resident I remember most vividly was a woman with a friendly smile and neat makeup. As we introduced ourselves, she commented, “Your teeth are so white and pearly!”
I laughed and replied, “Thank you!” The compliment was gratifying because I had just gotten my braces removed, and I was pleased that the painful three years had paid off. I searched around the room to find something I could compliment her on. My eyes landed on a collection of porcelain shoes, in varying sizes, beside her window.
“Those are really pretty,” I said. The woman swiveled in her wheelchair, and her face instantly lit up.
“Ah yes! I used to collect them when I was younger,” she said, gingerly picking up a shoe with a red gingham design. “This is one of my favorites. My daughter bought it for me when we traveled to Europe. I saw it in an antique store and just knew I had to have it.” We both laughed.
“Now because I can’t travel anymore, my family sends me shoes from the places they visit.” Her words echoed in my head for the rest of the day; the life and joy in her voice was palpable.
I visited another resident who kept her wedding picture next to her bed. The photograph, though blurry and black-and-white, showed the unmasked joy on the bride’s and groom’s faces. It was hard to wrap my mind around the fact that the picture was taken over 50 years ago; the moment felt so current. The perpetual passing of time suddenly struck me hard. The overused saying “time flies” rang true. Along with the photograph, she kept postcards and letters from her family. She said that looking at the exotic pictures on the postcards, she could almost imagine she was traveling around the world with them.
Hearing these stories – so familiar, yet so distant from my life – made me wonder: what truly defines happiness? Is happiness peeking from the antique porcelain shoes proudly displayed on a sunlit window sill? Is it hidden in the creases of the old photograph of the bride and groom? Or is it wrapped with the exotic postcards lovingly sent by sons, daughters, grandchildren, and friends? I never realized how vibrant and full the residents’ lives were. Despite their age, they had memories of friends and family, and a great deal of experiences to share. All these little details culminate into one’s own definition of happiness.
Volunteering at the Village has helped me look past the surface of age to a deeper meaning of happiness and experience. All my life, I have associated happiness with youth, wealth, and blissful innocence. That image was shattered when I realized that seniors may have the best understanding of happiness of all of us. I must make the most of life so that one day I can unearth my own tiny pieces of happiness.