We Were Rich

When I was about five one day, my dad checked the mail and in it he received a letter from the publisher's clearing house. The next few moments were my first experiences of what it must feel like being in an Earthquake. We lived in a small trailer out on my Nana's farm. I've never seen my dad jump up and down so much, I thought we must be playing some game, I thought the trailer was going to turn over. He just kept screaming we're rich we're rich! I was probably jumping up and down too! Then he called my mom at work, as I listened, I learned from his facial expression and his voice that we weren't millionaire's after all. Not sure why I think of this moment from time to time, but it's definitely engrained in my psche. That was definitely going from very high to very low very quickly. It's funny I still dream of winning the lottery. An easy quick fix to all my financial problems. I'm not quite as naïve as I used to be, I also know with money comes other problems. There's never really a quick fix to anything. Hard work and endurance. I never really felt poor when I was growing up, I always felt like we were rich. I remember telling kids at school we had a swimming pool. Well one of the kids came home with me one day after school, I was shocked when he told me that wasn't a swimming pool, that's the thing cows drink water out of. This is starting to sound like comic relief, I did watch "Last Comic Standing Last Night", oh well sometimes it's fun to find some comic relief in our lives.

My sister sent me this email, it's a good one!

This makes you think. The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised  and proud lady, 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.  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.  Thank you for your
part in filling my Memory bank. I am still  depositing.  Remember
the five simple rules to be happy

1. Free your heart  from hatred

2. Free your mind from worries

3. Live simply

4. Give more

5. Expect less