The Power of Smile

I found myself in the emergency department recently. Interestingly enough, it wasn't for me. A family member had fallen and broke their arm in a nasty way. He's been patched up now and is on the road to recovery.
While in the hospital, I saw a man in a wheelchair, crippled and old. His whole body was badly misshapen, and the best way I can think to describe him was creepy-cartoonish. He was moaning in agony and it was obvious he would not be in this world much longer. My heart melted with sadness at such an awful way to die - slowly and painfully.
A few days later, I was getting groceries at Costco with Mr. Man and I saw a woman sitting crippled in a wheelchair by the door on our way out. This is when my mind seriously started to kick into thought.
Do people who are permanently stuck in a wheelchair feel jealous or angry at all those walking around them? Do they envy the ability to be totally independent and free from the restraint of metal and wheels?
As I walked away, I felt a stab of guilt due to my ability to walk and run and jump while that woman sat trapped forever in a chair.
It was then that I remembered that old man in the hospital. As I walked by and threw a quick smile his way, his face lit up with a grin so big it was probably painful.
Hmm...
Bitterness or contentedness.
An ongoing choice.
Some days, I feel a bit bitter from 30 years of diabetes and disease. I want to feel free from blood sugar meters, my insulin pump, pain, and all the damage my body has incurred from years of chronic illness. Sometimes, I feel tired. Really tired.
And then I think of that man in the hospital hallway, living out his last days in agony and still he has the ability to smile, full and wide.
Bitterness or contentedness.
A daily choice.
With that man in mind, how can I possibly sulk in the mire of self-pity?
How can I not smile?
I still feel sad when I think of that man. But my sadness has changed from melancholy benevolence to a feeling of loss - the loss that everyone who has come in contact with this man's shining light of contentedness will feel when he passes on.
I suppose in answer to my question, some people in wheelchairs probably do feel ripped off or envious of those free-moving people surrounding them. Then there will be others who are living life fully regardless of their limitations.

It is up to me to choose how I will live - Fully, or Regretfully.

Thank you sir for your smile and for lighting up that hallway.

Today, in honour of you old man, I choose...
A big fat smile.
:)