I’m not a person for whom the word “serendipity” yields feelings of excitement and curiosity. I’m a planner: I like to know what’s going to happen next and hold as dear the illusion that I know how things are going to turn out. So, one of the reluctantly learned lessons of my life has been the realization that when things don’t go according to plan, the result is sometimes a happy surprise.

Our marketing manager, Elizabeth, gave me an assignment to write a blog about caregiving.  It’s kind of fun, almost 40 years after finishing graduate school, to once again have writing assignments. As was the case in graduate school, sometimes the writing slides sideways and takes on a life of its own!

I was deep in my internet research about caregiving: finding lots of fascinating statistics on websites such as the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) and the Alzheimer’s Association, and feeling like I needed a break. The data on the health and wellbeing of caregivers, or “care partners” as we call them in Good Memories, is a difficult read—the stress of caregiving results in a number of physical and mental health risks. If you’re interested, take a look at this summary of the CDC’s 2022 Behavioral Risk Factors Surveillance Survey.

As I read the statistics, I couldn’t help but think about the care partners in our Good Memories choir. They are heroes; they are the definition of courage and love, of stamina and patience, of optimism and kindness. We have the privilege of witnessing, every week, their 24/7 dedication. I worry about them and often wonder how best to support them.

And I couldn’t help but think about all the other caregivers in our Sounds Good family; people caring for loved ones, not only those with dementia but with the many other conditions that require time and devotion. The statistics tell us that one in five people in our country are caregivers. Look around your choir—a caregiver in need of a smile may be sitting right next to you.

What could I possibly say in a blog that would be helpful? I felt like I needed some fresh air and hopefully a fresh perspective. So, I decided to run a few errands, including a dog food pickup at Happy Dog Barkery, our local source for all things Dog. It lives up to its name; it’s a happy, tail-wagging place owned by two sisters, redolent with the smells of homemade dog treats and frequented by dog owners, usually with furry companion in tow (our dog, Moseley, prefers to wait outside, in the car).

The customers on this particular day included a young couple with Archy, their 4-month-old Bernedoodle (that’s a cross between a Bernese Mountain dog and a poodle), whose excitement and lack of obedience training had no bounds.  I couldn’t help but laugh as I commiserated with the owners about the challenges of being first-time puppy parents.

The young couple and I turned the corner to head to the check-out counter and there, in front of us, was a grown-up, purebred Bernese Mountain dog! Believe me, that’s a lot of dog—they weigh upwards of 100 pounds and at least 15 pounds of it is fur! Archy went ballistic in his efforts to make a new friend and his enthusiasm was tolerated admirably by the older dog. There was jumping and wagging, a little barking and lot of smiles—human and canine.

As I walked out of the store, I realized that I was chuckling out loud and had just had the great fortune to witness pure, unbridled joy. I’d entered the store feeling burdened by work issues, my never-ending to-do list, and worries about our Good Memories and Sounds Good care partners, and I left with a smile and a warm glow that lasted most of the day. I wasn’t looking for joy, but it found me anyway.

And I wasn’t writing a blog about joy, but it seems to have been written anyway.

Makes me wonder… what if I started each day, assuming there was joy out there, waiting to be found, and curious about where I might encounter it?

What if we all did?