Turning 38 - Breaths, Gasps, Cries, Laughs, and Whatever

Life is still good, no matter what happens.

Any day now I'll be a year older. Excited? No. Just thankful I've made it through 37. Thankful that my parents are still around. My brothers are healthy. My daughter's with me, happy I hope. And yes, I still have a few friends. Plus, a new "job" that allows me to stay at home and earn an income that I would never be able to earn in a week had I stayed imprisoned in either a corporate nook or an academic hole. 

 

There's nothing great about me. Please don't get me wrong. I'm just stating a fact. Perhaps, whatever great deed I've done is etched somewhere the unseen heaven. I may not have achieved such greatness, but I know that I've somehow done little good works that only souls have witnessed. 
 
The evasive happiness, minor feats, and biting reality 

Do I feel happy I'm turning 38? I don't know. I'd be lying if I say, "Yes!". But I know I'd be fooling myself had I done so.

Happiness is in the mind, like fantasy. I can either make one or not. I can choose to be happy or not. I choose hope, the undying optimism that things will be okay at the end of the bumpy road. What have I accomplished so far? Or what did I do this past year?