So, here I sit on a cool Monday morning, awaiting a call back from the tow truck guy. Unbelievable the year I’ve had, and its only March. It’s 9:13am, and I should be two hours into my workday by now, but here I sit, burning up another unplanned vacation day.

You tend to look hard on life when its subtle ways of reminding you that you are not always in control show themselves, those friendly reminders at the not so opportune moments. And as I sit and stew in the moment, reflecting back to how tough things have been for my wife and I the last three months, I realize that the one lone soul in the house unfazed by the horror that is adulthood, my daughter, is as happy as ever. It doesn’t faze her that the van won’t run. She’s oblivious that the bills are late, and daddy is on thin ice with work. 

I sit back and wonder, how can she not know things are bad? Is childhood innocence that naïve a concept? It’s not like we tell her what’s going on, but she’s not dumb. She’s actually scary smart for a four year old. As I sit and ponder these things, I realize that in my childhood, through all the ordeals with my parents, the separation and subsequent divorce, the step parent carousel, the court appearances, and so on, I was always happy. I didn’t know what was going on. Sure, I kind of knew, but I was surrounded with caring people who made sure I was loved, and that their problems did not become mine.

I see that with my family. You don’t need a lot of money or toys to be happy. Rich is a dirt word. Wealth, a word I don’t mind, to me is a measure of self worth, happiness, and time. A lot of rich people are not wealthy, to me anyway. I guess that’s easy to say when you are middle class and reaching. 

We are broke. Busted. But my daughter makes me wealthy. She makes me happy. Her smile makes thoughts of my declining 401 cease. Gas prices, ah, whatever. 

I get such a spark from her smile, I realize that we could sell the house tomorrow, trade the van, give it all up and simplify, and it wouldn’t change what we have. Those things are nice to have, but in the grand scheme of life, they don’t matter. Not to me anymore. Happiness and time, I wish I could fill a bank account with it.