Happy Joshua

This photo was taken when I was one year old (1978). I was walking and playing with a ball. I know a little bit about child development, and that seems like a pretty nifty thing for being one year old. I was also as happy as can be. Most of the photos of me when I am very young show a vibrance and happiness that is missing in later photos. This proves that I was not always glum. Something happened in those early years that turned me that way. 

I'm told I was potty trained before one year. I don't know. Those pants look pretty baggy, like I could have a diaper on. But it doesn't matter. I look happy, and that's what little kids should look like. 

I should point out that most of the old photos taken by my mother look like this. People's heads are cut off. Massive foreground. Nothing is centered. It was like she jumped off a chair while taking photos. But their awfulness is endearing, of course. They are strange snapshots of moments I never would have known existed otherwise. 

This photo was taken at my aunt and uncle's home near Hill City. My aunt still lives there, though she is alone now. I think she still has that carpet, in fact. In the background is my grandmother, who is now, what, 103 years old? Also, you can see a Native American girl behind me. I believe that is Darlene. My aunt and uncle fostered hundreds of children over the years. Native people don't allow white people to adopt their children, so Darlene was never officially adopted. As I recall, she was abused at an early age (fetal alcohol syndrome?) and suffered cognitive impairment. Because of her condition, she wasn't wanted by her tribe and wasn't allowed to be adopted. But she lived with my aunt and uncle for many years. She does not live with my aunt today, though they do see each other often. But I digress.

I'm posting this photo because it gives me hope and makes me happy. If I was so carefree and happy once upon a time, can I return to that state? I was not born unhappy. How I was treated made me that way. I know God can change my outlook. After my divorce, I had a moment in April or May that year when I felt happy. I wrote it on the calendar, even. I knew I would have to hang on to that moment as time went on, and I have. I still remember what I was doing and where I was (jogging on the Mickelson Trail). 

It is doubtful I will ever go through as much pain as I experienced in my divorce. There will be deaths of those around me, most likely, unless I go before them. That is a different kind of pain. I believe human beings are already set up to lose loved ones. We know it's coming. It's natural and right that someone lives out their life and we say goodbye. Divorce is like premature death, though. Something dies, but people go on living. It's unnatural. Nothing prepares you for that. If someone actually died, it would be easier to move on.

Happiness is possible again. Sometimes I feel little reminders. It whispers to me on the breeze in the new leaves on the trees. It emanates from the warmth of the sun. It cries out to me in the songs of so many songbirds. If the earth can spring forth from the cold deadness of winter into abundant and vivacious life, then so can I. By witnessing the miracle of spring each year, God reminds us life has cycles. Right now, I'm praying He brings spring into all the lives of those touched by divorce. 

Thank you for reading, and God bless.