A Good Day

After my mother’s death, my 94-year-old dad struggled to regain his hold on everyday life. I went to his house several days every week. Others stopped in to visit. Family called routinely to let him know they were thinking of him, but all in all, it was still a difficult time for him.

One day I hadn’t been able to go see him, but I knew a family friend had stopped by to take him out for breakfast. I called later to ask how his day had been. Instead of being happy for a treat out, he told me his day hadn’t been very good.

I asked him if the food tasted good. He said it’d been delicious. I asked if he’d gotten along well with this family friend. He assured me they’d had a fine visit. When questioned if he’d felt okay, he replied he didn’t have any problems today.

I told him I thought it sounded like he had had a good day. He was quiet for a moment, then agreed that yes, it had been, after all. The next day at lunch, after he thanked God for the food, Dad asked God to remind him of all the blessings in his life.