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 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."
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