Who thought there would ever be such a thing? We have heard of the 5 stages of grief, but happiness? This is a shared secret on one of life’s unexpected transitions. I am grateful to be in the third phase of happiness myself. It was the summer solstice, the brightest day of the year which marks the beginning of summer, warm weather, sunny days, and long weekends. Or at least it did for all of us in the Northern Hemisphere.  The radio dial was on a station I did not recognize and the two morning announcers were discussing their happiest moment. Let’s call him Justin. Justin’s happiest moment was at a hockey tournament when he was eleven. The game was a grueling battle yet, scoreless. Until he scored, not once, not twice, but three times. It was his first hat trick. The bench erupted and the fans, which were mostly parents from the stands, went wild with cheers and whistles. Justin visits that moment of excitement and pride whenever he is blue. Then Justin’s female co-host, let’s say, Cheryl, described her happiest moment. It was a summer day when she was eight. The family had planned to go to an amusement park. A special day, circled on the calendar. One she had been counting down to it with more anticipation than the last day of school. This would be a day of firsts for Cheryl. Her first amusement park, her first taste of root beer, and factors that were as though the stars aligned to provide the perfect day. Both Justin and Cheryl had happy memories that I could relate to, however, something was off. When I considered my favorite childhood memories, they were no longer my happiest moments which caused me to consider the concept of joy. Without knowing them, I could guess Justine and Cheryl’s approximate ages. There was something youthful, innocent, and glossy about their definition of happiness. Like a topcoat, it was a surface level of joy one focusing on the ascetics. Their happiness was rooted in achievement, self-congratulation, indulgence, and luxury. It was about perfection. The most perfect game on the best day. Happiness from performing with the utmost excellence, coming through when the odds were against you, from being surrounded by and adored by those whom you love and admire. All great feelings. I remember when my happiest time was doing something awesome, being the center of attention for the right reasons, or that snapshot of Christmas when I got the only thing I was desperate to have. Then my perspective shifted. Caught up in chasing more moments of perfection and excellence, I distanced myself from those who made those moments of pure happiness possible: friends, family, and teammates. In Cheryl’s case, her perfect day consisted of visiting an amusement park on a sunny summer day while surrounded by family including cousins of the same age.  A rare moment unable to be recreated as it is locked in time. A concept lost on young and imprinted on the less youthful. There is something about having a baby placed in your arms for the very first time pushes you through that phase of happiness. Joy comes from love and the ability to make others happy, especially children. This is more satisfying now that I understand that they carry this feeling of extreme delight into their adulthood. The laughter that echoes over the generations. By experiencing that joy, happiness comes from the ability to recreate it for others. This joy is selfless and is about celebrating life, love, and joy. It is about providing and witnessing the perfection of time for those we hold closest. When my children were small my happiness stemmed from theirs: Christmas morning, Birthdays, vacations, sporting events, graduations. Also, by giving back to those who had the greatest influence in my life. Without them, none of my experiences would be possible. Seeing them happy, spoiled, and even surprised brought me joy. This happiness comes in the form of celebrating life. Then I blinked and life changed again. The memories of hospitals as a place where my babies were born were quickly replaced and drowned out by harsh experiences. Ambulances, emergency rooms, test results, recovery, and waiting rooms, all create that numbness where your heartbeat robs you of breath and blurs your vision. Desperate moments that send us beyond perfection and celebration. Once we cross that threshold and have to start over, change direction, or heal, our concept of happiness has shifted again. To have experienced happiness at all is a gift and you become deeply aware of its temporary state. Joy then comes from profound appreciation. Appreciation of times passed, places have been, people loved, those lost, and the realization that every moment is a gift. I once dreamed of my retirement. A waterfront home with a garden and dock where my love and I would sit sipping our morning coffee with the knowledge that our grown kids were content and settled. I took it for granted that this was a guarantee. I understand now that growing old is a gift. To see our grandchildren experience that day of perfection and to share in the joy it brings, the kind they will hold dear well into their adulthood is my definition of happiness. The kind of joy they will one day understand is not easily recreated, is ever-changing, and most certainly temporary. I thank Justin and Cheryl for sharing their happiest moments with their audience. They reconfirmed that the efforts parents go to in creating that perfect day for their kids are worth it in the long run. That level of perfection is rare and unattainable. I am grateful to have a greater, deeper, definition of joy as it is a testimony to a lifetime where happiness is cherished and held sacred.