History of an Attitude

The small, well perfumed and proud 85 years old, fully dressed each morning at 8 am sharp, with her hair arranged in the fashion and makeup perfectly arranged, moved to a nursing home today. Her husband of 88 years died recently, prompting the move.

After several hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the asylum, he smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. While traveling with her walker to the elevator, I provided a detailed description of his tiny room, including curtains hanging from his window.

- I love ... - said with the enthusiasm of an 8-year-old who was just giving a new pet.

- Lady Anne, has not even seen the room ... wait.

- Never mind - answered -. Happiness is something you decide over time. If I like my room or not does not depend on how they are arranged the furniture, depends on how you arrange my mind. I've decided that I like. It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have the choice: I can spend the day in bed going over the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that does not work, or out of bed and be thankful for the body parts that work.

Every day is a gift, and while my eyes open, I will live each new day with happy memories.

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