A 92 Year Old’s Outlook
(sent by
The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady,
who is fully dressed
each morning by
with her hair fashionably coifed and makeup perfectly applied,
even though she is legally blind,
moved to a nursing
home today.
Her husband of 70 years recently passed away,
making the move
necessary.
After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home,
she smiled sweetly
when told her room was ready.
As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator,
I provided a visual description of her tiny room,
including the eyelet
sheets that had been hung on her window.
"I love it,"
she stated with the
enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new
puppy.
"Mrs. Jones, you haven't seen the room ... just
wait."
"That doesn't have anything to do with it,"
she replied.
"Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time.
Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the
furniture is arranged ... it's how I arrange my mind.
I already decided to love it ... it's a decision I make
every morning when I wake up.
"I have a choice;
I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have
with the parts of my body that no longer work,
or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do.
"Each day is a gift,
and as long as my eyes open I’ll focus on the new
day
and all the happy memories I've stored away ... just for
this time in my life.
"Old age is like a bank account ... you withdraw from what you've put in.
So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account
of memories.
Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank.
I am still depositing."
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