A Life Lesson About Enjoying the Small Pleasures

Have you ever had a "light bulb moment" when a total sense of understanding and complacency sweeps over you? This paramount moment happened for me five years ago -- and I have my brother, Robert, to thank.

Robert died four years ago at the age of 44 from Reiter's Syndrome. It is an auto-immune connective tissue disease. He was completely incapacitated, deformed and in a great deal of pain. His doctor told us to be prepared for his death.I never heard Robert speak of its possibility. He threw himself into enjoying every moment he had left. He did it with incredible skill and laid the groundwork by which we all can learn about drawing on the positive aspects of life.

The last four years of his life, he was confined to a lazy boy chair. It was too painful to put him in a wheelchair. But, Robert, with his incredible spirit and deep-rooted sense of happiness and humor, made that chair his "home." I would plan visits to spend the day with him. In preparation for my visits, he would always tape comedies and late night talk shows to watch together. It would inevitably turn into a day of laughter'"the healing kind. I'm so grateful to have those memories to draw upon. They carry me a long, long way down the path to healing from loss.

Robert loved frozen comes from Burger King and smoked sausage biscuits from Bojangles. I would always make a pit stop at both fast food restaurants to purchase them for him. The pivotal moment happened for me as I was handing the frozen coke to Robert on one of my visits. He had always lived a life of busyness and agility with an excess of friends and continual outings with them. He was now strapped to a lazy boy chair.

On one of my visits, as I was handing him his frozen coke, I was suddenly struck by how exceptionally sad his situation was. I realized how unfair his situation was in comparison to the freedom that I had. I would be able to walk up the stairs and into my life of working, exercising and going out to lunch with my friends. The words, "Oh, Robert, I'm so sorry!" came rolling out of my mouth. I realized all too quickly how wrong I was in my expression. Robert looked straight up and me and emphatically said, "What are you talking about? There are far greater troubles in the world than my situation!" It left me speechless, but with an entirely new concept for trying to live as Robert did and to draw on the good moments, instead of concentrating on the bad.

Those profound words were solid proof to me that he was one of God's more phenomenal humans. He had mastered the power of being able to find what is right rather than what is wrong. In spite of his devastating illness, he viewed his life as being worthy and fun. Amazing!

I am so fortunate to have had such a wonderful role model for my guidance and journey towards wholeness following his death. If I ever have a day when I'm missing him so, I just remind myself how upset he would be with me if I ever let myself have a bad day because of missing him. His philosophy for life and the inherent pleasure it brought him and should for the rest of us is what keeps me moving forward in our wonderful world called "life." So, as you go about each day, keep in mind the power of enjoying the small moments...and cherish them. Thank you, Robert, for your incredible insight. I love you!