Sometimes it can be quite hard to write about being happy. Not because you are not happy, but because circumstances and the immediate world around you are not and those moments of happiness in between the sadder times feel almost like a betrayal.
Closure is a dreadful word and I loathe it, it implies an end where an end it neither required nor wanted. What is needed is release. Permission to move on through the door not to close it. I had to go through a door, physically walk through a real door as well as a metaphorical one. I had to reclaim a place of sadness and return it to the place it had been before.
I hope I have taken the first step towards doing that and not just for me. This is the view that greets us as we come down over the hills. This is the view that tells us we are almost there, that we have left the noise and bustle long behind us. As I stood there the sun came out and I felt a sense of happiness and permission to move on.