HAPPINESS IS ...

Two days ago I was walking through the sprawling parking lot in front of Hannaford’s in Kennebunk, toting a purple plastic bag (“Save Our Planet!”) that was stuffed with four Noosa peach yogurts, a half-gallon of Horizon Organic 2% milk, the humongous size box of HoneyNuts for Mr. Wonderful and a carton of California blueberries. The sun was shining, the sky was Windex blue and the temperature was in the mid 70s.

A teenage boy, probably 14, was coming towards me, his curly brown hair mostly hidden under a blue BoSox cap. He was pushing a row of 10 connected but uncooperative shopping carts that kept swerving left, then right, and at one point nearly crashing into the back of a grey Subaru Forester before he managed to get them going straight again.  As we got closer, I stopped and started talking to him.

“Hi there,” I said with a friendly smile. "My grandson HATED this job when he worked at MarketBasket in Portsmouth. Tough going, isn’t it?” 

He just looked at me.

“This is a really hard job in the winter too, with all the ice and slush,” I said. 

He continued to just looked at me.

“Have a nice day,” I said, and headed to my car.

I’ve been doing this a lot lately: starting one-way conversations with complete and utter strangers. 

Like the lady in the produce department who was carefully examining Hass avocados, sneaking in a little pinch to see if they were ripe. “You’re smart to do that,” I said, leaning close. “Two weeks ago I bought three and when I cut into one the next day, it was all soft and yucky so I brought the other two back and the nice manager here gave me what I’d paid.” 

She just looked at me.

On Thursday I was doing my two-miler here in the Wells woods, happily calculating the escalating calorie burn count on my iWatch with each bend in the paved trail that meanders through our neighborhood. Ahead of me I spotted an older man sitting on a stone bench, so I stopped. 

“Nice day for a walk, isn’t it?” I said. “And are you okay?” He looked at me said, “I’m fine.” 

“That’s great! Amazing how the trees and bushes have all bloomed. Almost looks like mid-summer.”  He just looked at me.

I can’t help myself. I’m loaded with happy chattiness these days that I want to share with every person I meet — like the UPS delivery girl who sprints up my porch (“Thank you! Love getting packages!” I yell) or the propane guy from Garrett Pillsbury who simply wants to refill our big tank and bolt, but stops when I holler out the window, “So glad you came because we’ve been using the grill a lot lately and we don’t want to run out. Bet you’re pretty busy these days!” 

So what is all this giddy happiness I’m feeling? Maybe because masks are off, restaurants are open, hugs are happening, peonies are blooming, friends are gathering around candle-lit tables or on shaded back decks, grandparents are attending live high school graduations, the 2021 beach pass is attached to my front windshield and the golf swing is almost back. 

Yup.  That’s happiness. What a difference a year makes.