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Page 14 |
Happiness....
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. 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.
Remember these five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.
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Don't
Put Off....
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and
lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said,
"is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue
and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed
with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on
it was still attached. "Jan bought this the first time we went
to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was
saving it for a special occasion.
Well, I guess this is the occasion." He took the slip from me
and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the
mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment,
then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever
save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a
special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that
followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores
that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane
returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's
family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or
heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without
realizing that they were special. I'm still thinking about his
words, and they've changed my life.
I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and
admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden.
I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in
committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of
experience to savor, not endure. I'm trying to recognize these
moments now and cherish them.
I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and
crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the
sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom.
I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is
if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of
groceries without wincing.
I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in
hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as
well as my party-going friends'.
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing
their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or
doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my
sister would have done had she known that she wouldn't be here for
the tomorrow we all take for granted.
It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I
knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good
friends whom I was going to get in touch with-someday. Angry because
I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write-one of
these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and
daughter often enough
how much I truly love them.
I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything
that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning
when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day,
every minute, every breath truly is...a gift from God. |
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