The only thing I ever wanted was a fair measure of contentment in life.  To be always contented is impossible, of course.  Awareness of a need or a want will interrupt my contentment at least for a while.  Fulfillment of a need can go a long way toward restoring contentment, as can the hope of satisfying a want.  I consider it a high degree of contentment when I can overcome obstacles without great difficulty.  Some obstacles cannot be changed.  Some degree of contentment may be regained by accepting the situation and learning to cope with it. 

My earliest memory of discontent was the prospect of going to school.  My freedom was at stake.  I soon learned that there was no way to avoid it, so I learned to cope with my lot in life.  I don’t remember any periods of discontent before I reached puberty.  Of course I had disappointments, but none to cause discontent. 

I suppose my teen years were the least contented of my life.  I had more decisions to make than ever before, and most without benefit of experience as a guide.  Peer pressure, desire to attract girls, competition for a place on the football team, decisions about college, and many other things contributed to discontent.  I managed to survive.  As someone said, “teenage is not a disease.” The next phase of life was also very stressful.  There was a war going on in Europe, and our country was about to join it.  This made planning a life very difficult.  I wanted to marry and settle down, but I did not want to leave a bride behind in case I was drafted into the army.  After serving my stint in the army, and with a new job I was still faced with discontent.  I was ready to get married and I wouldn’t be satisfied until I had a wife. 

Marriage brought more contentment than I had before experienced.  Even though during our first year Mary felt, at times, like going back to her mother, she stuck with me until she got me trained.  Our four children were usually a joy, sometimes a problem.  We always took them on a vacation trip.  They all grew up to be pretty much normal people.  I was mostly contented with my family. 

Discontent invaded when a young mother and I had reared our family and were ready to reap the rewards of our effort.  Mary developed cancer.  She suffered it for a year before it took her life.  Needless to say discontent was severe during that time. 

My marriage to Mary had been good; maybe too good.  In less than a year I found my college sweetheart and we were married.  I expected to find contentment with her, despite her rheumatoid arthritis.  I had expected too much.  Though we had many good times together the pain of her disease dominated our time together.  Mardelle finally decided that she did not want to be married, and so we parted. 

For the next five years I lived alone, only half contented.  Dorothy and I dated during that time and found many things we both liked.  Dorothy had never been married but wanted to be.  I was not sure that I ever wanted to be married again.  I was not in love, as Dorothy was, but I finally decided I was close enough, and we were married.  Our lives together turned out to be more contented than ever before.  We had time to do things we each liked, together or otherwise, to travel or just hang out, and less responsibility.  We enjoyed each other, but it ended too soon. Once again extreme discontent visited me.  As Mary, Dorothy developed cancer, and devastated by the medicine that was supposed to help her, died within a year.  It was only after her death that I realized that I really was in love with her. 

Living alone provided little contentment.  My eyesight began to fail, adding to discontent.  My children convinced me to quit housekeeping and come live with my daughter.  They were right to do so.  I am still learning to cope with my disabilities and regain a measure of contentment.  Looking back over a lifetime, I can say that I have received a fair measure of what I wanted.