Happy noises

 I was having a shower, facing into the corner (it's a big shower enclosure, which is why it would have been so good for Gloria: we could have put a shower chair in there, and I would have been able to get in too, and help her), and I suddenly realized I was making happy noises.

So now I have to explain about happy noises.

"Happy noises" was Gloria's discovery.  When I'm happy, I apparently make a kind of soft, tuneless humming.  It's not melodic, but it's not just a continuous hum, either.  There are discrete notes, and they vary in pitch, but they don't vary by any kind of scale (or even key, come to that).  Sometimes the "notes" are equally spaced in time, but often they vary in spacing, so I don't even keep regular time.  The thing is, I didn't know I did it, and, for the most part, even now, I don't know when I'm doing it.

When Gloria first accused me of "happy noises," I didn't know what she was talking about.  Nobody had ever mentioned it.  (Maybe I was never happy until I met Gloria.  More likely, nobody had ever paid any attention to me or what noises I made.)  I thought she might be referring to the fact that, when I try to whistle or hum a tune, I'm not very good at it.  (I'm fine with singing.  Not Gloria's standard, of course, but I'm good enough for pretty much any choir.)  So I didn't believe in "happy noises."

Until I inadvertently documented it/them.

R was not quite three, but they were leaving, so I had bought a video camera (we were going to exchange tapes).  We had R for the day, and were in Bridgman Park.  After we got home, and were reviewing the tape, Gloria suddenly cried out, "There!  Happy noises!"  And there they were.  Happy noises aren't very loud, but, of course, I was holding the camera, so I was the closest thing to the microphone, so you could just hear them.  And, of course, I was happy: I was watching my grandson play.  We still have the tape.  (And it's even one of the ones converted to DVD.)

So, if I was making happy noises in the shower, I was, even if briefly, happy.  Probably the first time I've made happy noises since before November.  I don't know that there is any reason that I'm happy, although the streaming and singing aspects of the memorial are starting to come along after what seemed like two solid weeks of problems.

So then I had a good cry in the shower.  (In the shower, nobody knows you're crying.)  Why?  It wasn't because I feel guilty about feeling happy with Gloria gone.  Gloria would, definitely, want me to be happy, and I'm more likely to feel guilty that I'm *not* happy.  It's probably because happy noises were Gloria's discovery, and I miss her, every day.

Even when I'm happy.