"Give yourself the right to be happy"

George said that to me a number of years ago. And I wrote it in an essay I now have in my hands. It is something I wrote in the first part of the last decade—I found it today because of my resorting of the piles of stuff I have in my house. By hiring a housekeeper twice a month I have been forced to clean house myself. I wrote this when I was writing to feel better, to crawl through the fog I was in, and because I had co-founded a writer's group.

George and I had been in a show together and become pretty close in a short time period, as one often does in a show with a small cast. I was talking to him at a party, leaning against the granite countertop (in a kitchen with an acre of black granite), talking about each other's lives. I figured it was my job to listen to him go on about a failed eight-year relationship. Instead, George gave me a gift.

"Larry, give yourself the right to be happy," George said.

I stood dumbfounded for a second or two as it hit me: that I have made a mission of my life to help other people get through their crises, that I keep forgetting to be happy myself. Also, I have operated on One Day At A Time for the better part of a decade, and maybe for most of my adult life.

I thanked George for giving me a gift by saying that I should let myself be happy. In the following weeks I kicked the idea around. and wrote quite a bit—some of which I will likely share in future blogs. As I watch people I often wonder if they are happy. Others radiate happiness so much I am suspicious it is all an act. When I happen on some talking head on TV or listen on the radio, I often think that there are many unhappy people running our media and certainly our country. Then I turn the TV or radio off.

George and his ex-partner sold their house. George moved to Boston and that was the last I heard from him. Our friendship was brief but intense. It was open and sometimes a bit raw. But our friendship was honest, and since that talk in the kitchen, I have given myself the right to be happy. I know there are days I forget, and I get busy and don't look happy. But inside I am. Especially if I remind myself. Finding this pile of paper was like getting the gift from George all over again. Thanks George.

And if you see me smiling at you, smile back. I'm happy.