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The Right Attitude


The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud mother-in-law of my best 
friend, 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. 

Maurine Jones is the most lovely, gracious, dignified woman that I have ever 
had the pleasure of meeting. While I have never aspired to attain her depth 
of wisdom, I do pray that I will learn from her vast experience.

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." 


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