Where Eagles Dare

By Steve Carr

I spent Labor Day weekend with my ninety-five-year-old mother. Her diet isn’t particularly good, with only a sweet roll and coffee each morning, yet she’s up before the rest of us, happily sweeping the front step or picking apples off the lawn. It’s her happiness that inspires me more than anything else.

I read that Denmark, a spontaneous and relationship-rich place, has won the distinction of the happiest nation on earth. My mom is Danish, big surprise. The United States, despite its relative prosperity, didn’t make the top ten.

Being American is easy but happiness is more difficult for me. It’s often just over the next horizon. Why doesn’t my mother’s Danish blood course more freely through my veins?

“Live in the moment,” I tell myself.