A Story - On Choosing Happiness

I met Sushma in Singapore in 1982. I was 33 years old and she was 18. She was the daughter of an Indian father and a Chinese mother - and beautiful. For 15 years I had travelled the world. I had girlfriends but never considered marriage. I knew within 5 minutes of meeting Sushma that she would be my wife, and we married within a year.

I had an electronic trading business in Spain at that time and Sushma moved there with me. In March 1987 our only son, Jordi, was born. We lived in Europe until he was four years old. When my work took me to Nigeria we decided that it would be safest-and best for Jordi's education-if he and Sushma moved to Singapore.

It was while I was in Nigeria, on 23 May 1991 that i received a 2.00am telephone call from my friends at my office. Sushma had been in an accident in Singapore-her car had hit a tree on Bukit Timah Rd. Hoping for the best, I packed my bags to return home, but within hours I received a second call with the news that Sushma had died. I went crazy. I cried and cried for weeks. I cried that I had lost my wife-but most of all I cried for my four-year-old son. How would Jordi manage without his mother? How would I raise him?

My first commitment to my son was that I would never marry again until he was an adult. I decided that Jordi should continue to live and be educated in Singapore. He stayed with his grandparents during school. During vacations he joined me in Africa and Europe.

We travelled the world as buddies-toGermany, Austria, South Africa and Brazil. He was my fun-loving best friend, my companion, my soul mate. Together we discovered a world that he could never find in books.

I moved to Bali in 2001 to start a new life and create the business I have now. Jordi loved coming to Bali for his vacations. By mid 2006 Jordi finished high school and came to stay with me. He wanted a motor bike and I bought him one as a graduation present.

Then on 20 September the police called me at 2.00am. Jordi had had an accident. By the time I arrived at the hospital he was already blue. He died within ten minutes. He was 19.

First my wife, then my son.

I was numb. My entire world collapsed. I walked in the forest for four days, in a daze. Everywhere I went I saw Jordi. I took a trip to Thailand to try to heal. Still I would see him. I returned to Bali and on the anniversary of the 40th day, we held a church ceremony for him.

The months went by and, slowly, I began to live my life again. Perhaps my 13 years in Africa helped me to deal with my loss. The European says, "This should not have happened!" The African says "It happened. Life goes on." I could say "Why did I allow him to ride that bike?" But would that help?

If through sadness you can fix the future, then do it! But being sad doesn't fix the future.

I have no regrets. I did everything I could with my son. I gave him the most I could give. And my life now? I am an artist. I create. I carve. I enjoy animals. I enjoy the people I meet. All my possessions I value at nothing.

You never know how you will react to tragedy. It's like when you imagine a tiger jumping through your window. You say "If a tiger leaped into my lounge room, I would do this!' But when the real tiger arrives, you do something totally different.

I wake up every day choosing to be happy. What can possibly hurt me now? What can worry me now? Life is like a movie. It's not the length but the quality that matters.

There is no secret to happiness. You just choose it.

(From the book: Happiness in Hard Times by Andrew Matthews)

This story inspired me, and I hope it inspires you too...

with love,
mel