The Happy Life

“Grandpa tell me a story.....its been so long since i heard a story......”,Adriana asked Sean. “Well, Adriana....i think you have heard all the stories i know of.......I could tell you of my childhood if you want to hear it......but it will be boring i guess.....”,replied Sean. “Don’t worry grandpa.....try me.....”,countered Adriana. “Okay then lad....this.....is my story”......
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I was born high up on the mountains.....in the village of Ochsenberg, high up in the Alps......much higher than where we are right now. My mother kept our small cottage in order while my father was a cheese-maker. You could say that those were the times when the world was still fresh. You could smell the beauty of the earth as god had created it. I only wish you could have seen it as it were then....Adriana. Those were the days my lad, with nothing to do but just live life the way it should be lived. When the sun rose up between the mountains, all the light glistened with the snow and ice on the peaks, like a giant flame. It was the best sight of the world...to wake up and see the heavenly beauty.
I used to occasionally accompany the village goat-herd Johanne on his trek with his goats to the pastures high up in the mountains. The grass was truly greener up the slope. Those treks showed me the beauty of the world....the snow-capped peaks in the distance above you and the distant earth below you. The goats gave the milk for my father’s cheese business. It was a family business for many generations; making cheese was an art and most of the villages in the Swiss alps depended on the precious resource. Honestly i found Johanne’s job better than my father’s. Johanne could travel anywhere along the Alps, see nature in all her glory. But then again my father would have boxed my ear if i became one; cheese-making was the family tradition not goatherding.
Spring was the best time of the year; relief after a cold and dark winter. The thrill of warming yourself against the warm gaze of the sun in the still cool air was exquisite. Its when the flowers in the hidden valleys bloom. The daffodils, the roses and the orchids bloomed in fields full o them....some pretty flowers can only be found on higher slopes; sometimes high up in crevasses on the cliff you can see a rare beauty. On one of my treks i had stumbled on the ‘valley of flowers’, thats what i called it....after a heavy trek up the mountain with pretty much nothing to look at, it was a delight to see expanses of red, blue and green below you. The flowers there bloomed only for a few weeks in the year; they bloom sometime during the middle of spring, when all the snow has been melted away.
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The ‘Valley of Flowers’ is an important place to me lad.....Sean said with a bit of moisture in his eyes.
“Grandpa, I think i remember grandma telling something about that valley..”,said Adriana.
“Well she would now, wouldn’t she.....thats where I asked for her hand in marriage......”
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Your grandma was the daughter of the village alderman; he was the head of the village council. So it took a lot of time for me to get the courage to even talk to her. In your language you could say that we went on ‘dates’. But anyway one thing led to another and one fine day i decided i wanted to marry her. I came up with a good plan, invite her for a trek up on the mountains. She hadn’t seen as much of the mountains as i had and few people in Switzerland knew of the valley; it was a sort of secret kind of thing. So after many hours of trekking, when we finally reached the valley, your grandmother was spell-bound, the flowers were beautiful. Quite the right time to ask the question; when the mind isn’t thinking. She said ‘Yes’ and so we were married that very spring; didn’t take much time convincing the parents. We moved to a cottage midway between her parents and mine; so that we are impartial. It was a good time. Nothing to worry about; we loved each other and that was all that mattered. That’s difficult nowadays with so many things to do. My life was a simple life. I made good old Swiss cheese; the best ones this side of the Alps. I expanded my business, made more cheese, exported some too; the world loved our cheese, but at the heart of hearts i was still more of a goat-herd than a cheese-maker. Life was indeed beautiful. Your grandmother and I used to go hiking a lot; we both loved the mountains. We have together scaled some of the biggest mountains of the Alps; we scaled the Stockhorn on our honeymoon. The view from the top of some of those mountains were beyond words, makes you feel very humble, humans are really inconsequential beings.....
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Sean noticed that his grand-daughter had fallen asleep. He kissed her forehead and tucked her into bed. “Goodnight dear....”, he whispered.
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Sean walked to his balcony and looked up at the moon, whispering, “Oh Elena.... you made my life whole........ the fun times we had........I wish i could join you sooner........”.