May 2014
~
she rises every morning,
intentioned in her mind,
to make the most of life remaining,
living forward, not behind.
blind, but only in her eyes,
she sees what others can’t,
choosing to deposit in,
a bank account, not scant.
though pained in bones, in joints
she isn't pained in thought,
she lives forward... no regrets,
not focused on, what she has not.
to her, happiness is determined,
by what you choose ahead of time;
good memories you've created for,
withdrawal in life’s wintertime;
each day a gift to be unwrapped,
and eyes awakened every morning,
to seek anew the cup of hope,
and drink in all that life will bring.
*post script.
i am not the author of this original story (see below). i'm not even sure who this wonderful woman is (though i am sure we have all met someone who could fit this description). as with so many stories that inspire you and i, this one inspired me to squeeze out a quick poem... and may even have shaken me from a long writing drought. life has been crazy busy for us here and has dried out most of my creativity. i have very much missed regular contact with each of you!
wishing you all a wonder-full Sunday,
Steve
she rises every morning,
intentioned in her mind,
to make the most of life remaining,
living forward, not behind.
blind, but only in her eyes,
she sees what others can’t,
choosing to deposit in,
a bank account, not scant.
though pained in bones, in joints
she isn't pained in thought,
she lives forward... no regrets,
not focused on, what she has not.
to her, happiness is determined,
by what you choose ahead of time;
good memories you've created for,
withdrawal in life’s wintertime;
each day a gift to be unwrapped,
and eyes awakened every morning,
to seek anew the cup of hope,
and drink in all that life will bring.
*post script.
i am not the author of this original story (see below). i'm not even sure who this wonderful woman is (though i am sure we have all met someone who could fit this description). as with so many stories that inspire you and i, this one inspired me to squeeze out a quick poem... and may even have shaken me from a long writing drought. life has been crazy busy for us here and has dried out most of my creativity. i have very much missed regular contact with each of you!
wishing you all a wonder-full Sunday,
Steve
The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with her hair fashionably coiffed 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.”
She went on to explain, “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.”
a friend posted this story on FB along with a wonderful photo:
https://www.facebook.com/2DayFM/photos/a.141042102595710.18955.132495853450335/706411982725383/?type=1
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.”
She went on to explain, “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.”
a friend posted this story on FB along with a wonderful photo:
https://www.facebook.com/2DayFM/photos/a.141042102595710.18955.132495853450335/706411982725383/?type=1
