I think it gets to the point of what I wanted to say.
It almost made me cry. I'm a big sap like that.
A man of 92 years, short, very well-presented, who takes great care in his
appearance, is moving into an old people’s home today.
After waiting several hours in the retirement home lobby, he gently smiles as he is told that his room is ready.
His wife of 70 has recently died, and he is obliged to leave his home.
As he slowly walks to the elevator, using his cane, I describe his small room to him, including the sheet hung at the window which serves as a curtain."I like it very much", he says, with the enthusiasm of an 8 year old boy who has just been given a new puppy.
"Sir, you haven’t even seen the room yet, hang on a moment, we are almost there."" That has nothing to do with it", he replies.
" It is already decided in my mind that I like my room. It is a decision I take every morning when I wake up."
" Happiness is something I choose in advance. Whether or not I like the room does not depend on the furniture, or the decor – rather it depends on how I decide to see it. "
" I can choose. I can spend my day in bed enumerating all the difficulties that I have with the parts of my body that no longer work very well, or I can get up and give thanks to heaven for those parts that are still in working order. "
" Every day is a gift, and as long as I can open my eyes, I will focus on the new day, and all the happy memories that I have built up during my life. "" Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw in later life what you have
deposited along the way. "Deposit all the happiness you can in your bank account of memories.
Short post. But dude man, I need to sleep. Sleep...sleep. That word is so nice right now.
