Person: Blu, who showed me what to do and where to go on my first day, and was patient with my questions.
Place: My happy place only exists in my imagination, like Cosette’s castle on a cloud. Mine is no castle, though– sometimes it’s a rambling beach house with a wraparound porch, the whitewashed rooms open and bright with natural light. There are windows everywhere, and wooden floors, and it is sparsely furnished. The taste of salt spray lingers in the air, and the crash of waves is a drumbeat on the shore. Sometimes it’s a little cottage in the mountains, cozy and snug, nestled in a glade of evergreens where the tips of the trees meet far overhead in a delicately tracery of branches criss-crossing like a star against the pale glow of the sky, and a stream runs clear and bright behind.
These are my happy places. They may only exist in my imagination palace, but I’m glad of them.
Thing: Mom had an embroidered flower pin brooch she used to wear to church that ended up with me after her death. I turned it into a necklace. Every time I wear it, I remember sitting on the corner of Mom’s bed, watching her get ready for church. Watching her carefully pin that brooch to her blouse, just above her heart, and the way she would catch my eye and smile at my reflection.