Don’t you want me to be happy? That’s a loaded question. The obvious answer is, yes! But there’s more to it than that.

When our oldest child was in elementary school, he struggled to remember to bring home his daily math homework. Many days after arriving at home, he would say, “Oh, I forgot my homework. Can you take me back to pick up my math book?” Many, many times, I did. I always wanted my kids to be successful in school, and how can you do that when you don’t do your work and turn it in on time? So, I enabled them to get the needed items, as long as the school wasn’t already closed for the day.

Eventually, though, it became such a habit. I tried to implement new strategies for helping him to remember. When I dropped him off in the morning, I reminded him to remember. When I picked him up from school, I would ask, “Do you have everything you need?”

Inevitably, it still happened numerous times that the math homework was forgotten at school. I decided I needed a change in course. In order for him to learn responsibility for his work, I would need to provide the reminders, and then leave it to him. The next time the question came, “Can you take me back to school to get my math homework?”, the answer was no. There was pleading and cajoling on his part, but I was firm and reiterated that the answer was no.

My child is stubborn, and smart, and knows where to get me. His question to me was, “Don’t you want me to be happy?” Ouch! That hit me and made me both think and laugh. My response then was, “Yes, I want you to be happy. But I don’t want to be responsible for making you happy. You have to plan ahead and make choices so you can be happy. That means you will need to remember your homework, if getting it done on time and turning it in is what you want.”

He was not happy. At least not right then and not with that reply. But he did eventually learn that he was responsible for the choices that would lead to his happiness. The parenting lesson there didn’t stick with me consistently throughout the kids’ years of elementary and secondary education. I was always too eager to help ensure that nothing was missed, and to help achieve success even when uninvited to do so.

My oldest has told me since then that I didn’t give him enough opportunity to fail. I may have done a better job with the other two, though the jury is still out on that. I do believe, though, that progress is being made as all three are becoming independent.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about that question, “Don’t you want me to be happy?” I’ve been thinking about it in terms of me, don’t I want to be happy? What does happiness even mean? What kind of happiness do I want?

In my experience with church, faith, and religion, it has always been stressed that happiness is fleeting and not something to pursue. We should pursue the fruits of the spirit, and be selfless. I agree that those are noble goals and desires, and it is important to me that love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control be evident in me. I desire to give preference to other people’s needs. But, in all honesty, I want to be happy. Deeply happy.

I want people to treat me well. I want someone to care about my needs.

I know that having everything I want handed to me does not make me happy. I know that accomplishments that I didn’t really earn don’t make me happy.

Reading and learning, starting at a place of naivety and expanding my knowledge to a place of more humility, makes me happy. Practicing piano for hours on end, repeating the same phrase over and over again to perfect it, makes me happy. Seeing a problem that needs to be fixed, and putting my mind to a solution, makes me happy. Paying attention to other people’s likes and dislikes and needs, and then buying something, or making something, or meeting the need without being asked, makes me happy. Experiencing adversity, and not being willing to give up, makes me happy. Realizing that things aren’t always as we wish, but knowing one has abilities and people in their lives that can make the journey easier, makes me happy.

It is that kind of happiness I want for my kids. Not easy, not handed to them, but learned and cultivated. Grown as those fruits become apparent. Developed through seeing the impact of giving to someone else. Finding that one is not alone on their path, and that they have character traits that are maturing that will help carry them.

Happiness, deep happiness, doesn’t always look happy. There are not always smiles and laughter. Sometimes there are tears and pain. Sometimes, in order to dig deep and find happiness, there is a perilous step to take, to trust in something as yet unknown. It’s important to allow all of our human emotions to inform our quest to be happy.

To my kids, “Yes, I want you to be happy. Deeply, deeply happy. I want you to know your worth and your value. I want you to experience all of life. I want you to learn how to be responsible, by being given the opportunity to try. I want you to have a place to be that is safe while you figure it out. My happiness is deeper today as I learn to let you go. There is pain, and there are tears in the process, but what remains when the intensity of emotion subsides, is a deeper, abiding happiness that can help sustain me through all of our adversities. I love you.”