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"It could be worse," joked my dad Henry in his later years when asked about his condition. He was a widower who contended in his senior years with chronic pain and cancer symptoms.
"It could be worse." I really admired that attitude.
My dad admitted to his distress and actively addressed his problems. Yet he focused on the good stuff - regaling us with jokes (often groaners), staying active (adult education and tennis), and often repeating his mantra, "It could be worse."
"It could be worse." I really admired that attitude.
My dad admitted to his distress and actively addressed his problems. Yet he focused on the good stuff - regaling us with jokes (often groaners), staying active (adult education and tennis), and often repeating his mantra, "It could be worse."
In fact, that's exactly what he said to a friend who visited my dad on his death bed.
I often reflect on how much I appreciate that positive, stay-engaged attitude. What a precious gift he gave me -- one that I try to share with others in my personal and work life.
How easy it is, especially in uncertain, distressing times, to dwell on disappointments and worries.
But, what if - after tending to our health and safety - we focused on the good stuff instead?
What good things happened today? What good things and good people do we have in our lives? What and whom do we appreciate?
If we recognize what we appreciate and express it to others, all involved feel better.
I often reflect on how much I appreciate that positive, stay-engaged attitude. What a precious gift he gave me -- one that I try to share with others in my personal and work life.
How easy it is, especially in uncertain, distressing times, to dwell on disappointments and worries.
But, what if - after tending to our health and safety - we focused on the good stuff instead?
What good things happened today? What good things and good people do we have in our lives? What and whom do we appreciate?
If we recognize what we appreciate and express it to others, all involved feel better.