A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud man, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with his hair fashionably combed and face shaved perfectly, even though he is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. His wife of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After the several hours of waiting patiently in the lobby, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready. With the nurse by his side, he maneuvered his walker to the elevator. As she walked with him, she provided a visual description of his tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on his window. “I love it!” the old man stated, with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy. “Mr. Jones, you haven't been to the room yet; just wait!” said the nurse. “That doesn't have anything to do with it,” he replied. “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the room is decorated or how the furniture is arranged…it’s how I arrange my mind. “I’ve already decided to love it. It's a decision like 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 I can get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. “EACH DAY IS A GIFT!! Old age is like a bank savings account. You withdraw from it what you've put in. And as long as I wake each morning, I'll focus on the new day and then recall all the happy memories I've stored away to recall just for this time in my life.”