There's absolutely nothing like sitting in the presence of a cantankerous old woman. Even damp humidity gives you a feeling of thankfulness once you've left their presence. DUH (Dear Understanding Hubby) says if I were in their plight then I might be the same way. He may be right, but the prideful, ignorant child in my screams, "No, I WON'T!"
In all fairness, some of their situations are down right pitiful and difficult. But other situations are just normal bumps in the road we call life. I like to think that when I am old I will force myself to find something to do (other than gripe and whine), and that I will always find SOMETHING to be thankful for, even if it is only the shiny floor in the nursing home, or cable television, or a phone that I can handle even with arthritic fingers, or the fact that my room has a window with a real tree outside of it. I like to think that even if I find myself in a mundane job, that I will be like former co-workers I've had and find something to make it interesting. Did you know you can make a game out of timed drive-through windows and the burrito bar at Taco Bell on a Friday night when half your crew calls in "sick" the night a hit movie is to premier?
I like to think that no matter my salary or the importance of my job, that I too will rise to any challenge with a smile. Okay, in case my sister is reading this, we'll settle for my normal Eeyore facial expression with a smile in my heart.
I've always heard that happiness is a choice. Our pastor's wife has a quote that says something like this:
Two decisions on the shelf: pleasing God or pleasing self.
And even though I have never had to live in a nursing home because my children didn't want me, nor feel trapped in a job I didn't enjoy, nor be stuck in a marriage where my spouse has mentally lost it and is either a danger to himself or everyone else, I like to think that if I were in those situations, at least 80% of the time I'd please God by giving thanks. (And the other 20% of the time I'll be a downright ornery, cantankerous, griping old woman.)
In all fairness, some of their situations are down right pitiful and difficult. But other situations are just normal bumps in the road we call life. I like to think that when I am old I will force myself to find something to do (other than gripe and whine), and that I will always find SOMETHING to be thankful for, even if it is only the shiny floor in the nursing home, or cable television, or a phone that I can handle even with arthritic fingers, or the fact that my room has a window with a real tree outside of it. I like to think that even if I find myself in a mundane job, that I will be like former co-workers I've had and find something to make it interesting. Did you know you can make a game out of timed drive-through windows and the burrito bar at Taco Bell on a Friday night when half your crew calls in "sick" the night a hit movie is to premier?
I like to think that no matter my salary or the importance of my job, that I too will rise to any challenge with a smile. Okay, in case my sister is reading this, we'll settle for my normal Eeyore facial expression with a smile in my heart.
I've always heard that happiness is a choice. Our pastor's wife has a quote that says something like this:
Two decisions on the shelf: pleasing God or pleasing self.
And even though I have never had to live in a nursing home because my children didn't want me, nor feel trapped in a job I didn't enjoy, nor be stuck in a marriage where my spouse has mentally lost it and is either a danger to himself or everyone else, I like to think that if I were in those situations, at least 80% of the time I'd please God by giving thanks. (And the other 20% of the time I'll be a downright ornery, cantankerous, griping old woman.)
Comments
Bobby