I am just an aging Pollyanna.  At least I try to be.  Sometimes I have difficulty seeing the bright side of situations.  Mostly, I really want to be optimistic.  Happiness comes from knowing that there is always a possibility for peace.

We live in a world full of bad news stories and fear-mongering.  Can’t we challenge these factors with a message of Pollyannaism?  Well, the only way I know to counteract the negativity, is with a powerful dose of positive energy.  And if it’s not me, then who can I count on to keep my mind on the upside of things?

I read somewhere recently, something to the effect, that listening to or watching the news is not good for our psyches.  I try to limit the amount of news I take in on a daily basis, so this little tidbit supported my behavior.  I have strayed from this practice occasionally and it has put me into a day-long funk.  So I will continue to limit the bad news.

But beyond that, what do I do?  I just try to temper my negativity.  Now some people who know me, could tell you that I have plenty of negativity about some things.  But, I am working on it.  A work in progress, that’s me.  I am trying not to be “a piece of work.”  That is something altogether different.

There is a reason I wanted to write about this topic.  Children are that reason.  They need to see that there is a choice one can make in any situation.  We can always choose our attitude.

I remember when I was a child, thinking, “We can all get along, can’t we?”  I was always surprised when it wasn’t the way things worked out.  “Why?” I thought. “Why didn’t people get along?”  I was a peacemaker.  I wanted everyone to get along.

Beyond my experiences, there is a universal force that unites humanity.  We need each other to survive.  If we can get along well, we can survive well.  This is reason enough for me to continue to be a Pollyanna.  So, I guess I am on my way to being a very old Pollyanna.  And I’m okay with that.

I have observed disrespectful behavior in teenagers to a greater degree than ever before. And it is easy to blame them for their inappropriate responses and actions.  But is this really fair?

I also see adults behaving badly.  In some parents, there is a tendency to expect obedience from their children even when their own words do not correspond with their actions.  This is a problem.

In a parenting presentation that I attended when my children were in elementary school, the speaker, Barbara Coloroso, was a dynamo.  Something she said that has stuck with me over 30 years is: “Say what you mean.  Mean what you say.  And do what you said you were going to do.”  Consistency is key to good parenting.

Mrs. Coloroso also taught a course on student discipline for teachers, which I also attended.  The basic principles were the same, even though the techniques and circumstances for home and school were different.  The details and examples she gave were applicable to each environment, but the message was identical.  Tell the truth.  Be accountable.  Model good behavior.

It is increasingly important for this message to be heard and seen in adults before we can begin to expect young people to act appropriately.  They need examples, lots of them.  Actions do speak louder than words.  We must show them, not only how to behave, but also give them the respect we want and expect for ourselves.

Another thing that Barbara said was, “Kids are worth it!”  And they are.  They should be.  Build trust. Do things together.  Talk to each other, without devices.  Let them know that they are worth it.

The reality is this.  We live in a world that is constantly giving us mixed messages.  But those messages don’t have power unless we give it to them.  The only thing any of us can do is be authentic and true to ourselves.  We need to be honest with ourselves and each other and tell the truth.

I can’t conceive of what life would be like without laughter.  I don’t want to either.  Life is too full of difficulties and challenges for any of us to be without this gift.  And yet, there are many people who do not seem to have it, or perhaps just haven’t learned to cultivate it.

Whether by circumstance or a specific experience that might have caused this void, most things that happen to us can be alleviated somewhat with a little lightheartedness.  Something in the human spirit craves this emotion.  It enriches our lives.

Many stand up comics have had a traumatic childhood and it has been the basis for their work.  By drawing humor out of bad, even horrible situations, we are surviving them well.

Surviving well is is a term I have found to be heartening when I have been faced with deep sorrow and tragedy.  Laughter, finding the funny memories and stories after a loved one dies, is part of the healing that can begin even in the first moments of of grief.  It is a saving grace.

I found many quotes on the topic of laughter.  These are a few that resonated with me.

“A day without laughter is a day wasted.” – Charlie Chaplin

“Laughter is an instant vacation.” – Milton Berle

“Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.” – Victor Hugo

And then there is the phenomenon of just smiling.  Sarah Stevenson, in an article published by Psychology Today, writes, “For starters, smiling activates the release of neuropeptides that work toward fighting off stress. Neuropeptides are tiny molecules that allow neurons to communicate. They facilitate messaging to the whole body when we are happy, sad, angry, depressed, excited. The feel good neurotransmitters, dopamine, endorphins and serotonin are all released when a smile flashes across your face as well.”

I know what it does for me.  The blessings that accompany smiling and laughter are too numerous to mention.  Look it up on the internet.  I did.  I couldn’t possibly cite all the published articles about the medical and psychological benefits.  It has even been mentioned in several sources that smiling works wonders, even if you don’t mean it.  What an amazing concept!

If I live to be a hundred years or more, I intend to smile and laugh every day, no matter what happens.  It has worked for me so far, and I have promised myself to continue to do so, up to and including the day I die.  Enough said.

I am getting old, and as I look at the trends around me, I am often puzzled.  I work in a public high school.  Therefore, I see myself way on the opposite side of the generation gap from the students.  There are more and more things that I simply cannot identify with in their world.  It is as if we are living on different planets.

Sagging pants are one of these things.  I just don’t get it.  I especially don’t understand how girls can be attracted to boys with their underwear exposed.  These guys waddle like penguins and act real cool as their pants keep sliding down.  They are forever pulling them up to walk and then yanking them down a bit.   I don’t think that they could run if their lives depended on it.  I have even heard that walking in this manner has been known to make hip surgery necessary for young men in their mid-twenties.

The first time I witnessed this phenomena was when I was driving close to home in the wintertime.  It was below zero degrees and a young man’s rear end was out in the elements.  He had a winter jacket, hat and boots and gloves on, but his underwear was the only thing covering his backside.  He had to be freezing.  But “fashion” won out.  I actually couldn’t believe it at the time.  My granddaughter informed me the this was the way guys dressed.  I was flabbergasted.

The thing that surprises me the most is that sagging started more than 25 years ago when my son wore his pants just an inch or so below his waist.  He skateboarded and they wore their pants that way for reasons I didn’t understand then or now.  It looked so uncomfortable.  It’s a mystery to me still.

Tattoos are another thing I just can’t wrap my mind around.  I don’t mean that I can’t appreciate small ones or ones that can be covered if need be.  But I don’t know why so many people insist on covering so much of their bodies with permanent ink.  Even people my age and older are jumping on this bandwagon.

The thing is, even though some of the larger tattoos may have major significance to the person wearing it, they can draw attention away from that same person and who they are because that’s what a tattoo does.  It draws attention. That’s what it’s designed to do.  And it is always there.  You can’t leave home without it.

The ones that confuse me the most are the ones that conflict with each other.  It’s like the tattoos are having a competition to see which one gets noticed the most.  Some people who have tattoos even say that they are addictive.  This, combined with the fact that they are painful and cost lots of money, is why I don’t think I will ever understand this.  I see lots of sagging in the future for these people as they get older.  Sagging of a different kind.

Now to be fair, I must admit that when I was in high school we wore mini skirts and tent dresses. Guys had long hair and sideburns.  There were bell-bottomed pants and paisley galore.  It was not a pretty time in fashion history.  But, it was my time and so I understood it.

I guess getting older makes it harder for me to relate to popular trends because I am not “trying on” new ideas anymore to see if they fit me.  I guess I have come to the “what you see, is what you get” time of my life.  And so, I am bound to find more and more things about the next generations baffling.  And I think that maybe the main thing that I can’t comprehend is how I  got to this point in my life.  Yes indeed.  I think I am in store for many more things I don’t understand before I cease to exist.

The happiest man I have ever known was my father.  He died over twenty years ago, but I think of him and miss him everyday.  He had an amazing smile and it had a permanent residence on his face.  It was a kind countenance and it just emanated a love of life.

Growing up with a man like this was a huge blessing.  You simply could not bring him down.  And he could lift you up like nobody’s business.  He was irrepressible.  His joy was palpable and you could feel it in the way he spoke, the way he worked and the way he played.

He was so thankful for all the good in his life.  My mom and my brother and I were his treasures, as were all of his family and friends.  He was just grateful for being alive.

My dad understood  the value of having balance in his life.  The balance between work and play, seriousness and fun were equally important and they depended on each other.  Too much of one and not enough of the other was not what he considered a good way to live.

He worked hard and expected others to pull their weight.  If you needed help, all you needed to do was ask.  But to do nothing was not acceptable.  He enjoyed work.  He reveled in it!  I remember him coming in from the cold, soaking wet from sweating under all his clothes after shoveling snow for hours.  He walked in with a big smile on his face as if he had just come back from a great vacation.  I was in awe of him.

When he played with us, everyone had fun.  No one was ever left out and it showed on all our faces.  My friends loved him.  He taught us how to do things with his patience and love.

When hardship hit him, he endured, knowing that things would get better.  When sadness appeared, he let the emotion come fully into him.  He felt it deeply. And then, he let it go.  He cried without embarrassment.  His ability to show vulnerability is what made him strong.  And I loved him all the more for it.  He did not hold on to the pain of grief, but instead, let it flow through him naturally.  And he healed.

When he felt he made a mistake for something he did or said to me, he apologized.  I was just a kid, but he gave me that kind of respect.  I was important to him.  It meant the world to me.  It still does.

He was so comfortable in his own skin.  Other people did not determine how he felt about himself.  He liked himself and it drew people to him.  He was often unintentionally funny and we would all laugh.  He laughed at himself right along with us, glad to have made it happen.

My mom and I always talk about how he always was so happy to see each of us.  It didn’t matter if he had only been gone a couple of hours or much longer.  And he was happy to meet and talk to complete strangers!  I have often thought he  should have had his photo next to the word “gregarious” in the dictionary.  (I know this really dates me.)  A lot of people don’t even use a dictionary anymore.  They just use their computers or phones.  But that’s what I thought.

My son always said, “You never have to worry about what kind of a mood Grandpa will be in.”  And if I was worried or feeling blue, I would call him and he would say, “Let’s go to lunch!”  I’d say, “Dad, you don’t need to buy me lunch.”  And he’d say, “You gotta eat!”

He would pick me up and we would go to lunch.  If something was bothering me, he’d cheer me up.  If I wanted to do something and was unsure about going ahead with it, he’d say, “There’s no time like the present.”  By the end of lunch, everything would be turned around.  He’d leave me feeling like I could do things, that things would look up and that everything would be okay.

I don’t think that I will ever meet another person that can spread sunshine like he could.  And I am so grateful that I was fortunate enough to even know him, let alone be his only daughter.  If I live to be a hundred years old I will still know that the happiest person that I have ever known was my dad.