It's
About Attitude
The 92-year-old, petite,
well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed
each morning by eight o’clock, 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 I that do.
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