A Half-Full Glass
My son is having his tonsils out today. In fact, it’s happening so early in the day that by the time most of you read this it will be long over.
One would expect an eight-year-old to be nervous about surgery. The pain. The shots. Whatever else he could imagine. But my son is much more interested in:
Popsicles
Sherbet
7-Up
and
Jell-o
That’s the diet for the first two days, and the main focus of his attention. Besides the fact that he will miss six days of school. Count ‘em. SIX.
Of course his teacher sent home mounds of homework, and he’ll have to sit out phys ed class and recess for two weeks after he returns to school. But until then, we’ve stocked up on movies, books, computer games, and craft items. Oh, and pain-killer. He can’t wait to get started on them all. Well, all but the pain-killer.
My son, as you can tell, is definitely a “glass half full” person.
My great-uncle James died two weeks ago. He was ninety-four. His life was filled with a passion for books (he was a librarian!), music, birds, crossword puzzles, and family. The memorials at his funeral spoke mainly about his positive outlook on life — that he always chose to look on the bright side. That the glass was, for him, always, always, half full. What a wonderful way to live – to not worry about silly things. To accept life, to live it to its fullest, and to enjoy every moment while it happens.
Even after Uncle James had had a heart attack, gone on a ventilator, been taken off (his sons thinking that was the end), recovered enough to move back to the nursing facility of his retirement center, and told he would have to go through rehab – even then he was convinced he was going to get back to his old self and return to his apartment.
He ultimately wasn’t able to do that, but if it had been up to him… Life, for him, was never a time to sit and bemoan whatever had happened. It was a time of looking forward, of being present in the moment, and of opening himself to new experiences. By the age of ninety-four, he’d had a lot of those.
Today I finished reading a book called The Sea of Trolls, by Nancy Farmer. One of the main points of the story is to enjoy life while it lasts, rather than trudging around, dwelling on the fact that you will die someday. The Queen troll tells the young hero, “To ignore joy while it lasts, in favor of lamenting one’s fate, is a great crime.”
Pretty good philosophy for a troll.
So for all of you “glass half empty” people out there, drink up. There’s much more good to come. Those of us with our glasses half full will be happy to share.
