“This is the best day ever!” proclaimed my three-year-old, raising his arms to the ceiling of our hotel room with an enthusiasm I couldn’t replicate if I tried. He had just received his second emergency blood transfusion. He had just been in the hospital for almost a week. He had just had more than 15 needles over four days. And, he had just received the diagnosis that had his dad and I both relieved (not cancer) and terrified (his bone marrow was not working) all at the exact same time.
As his words echoed throughout our room, I stared at him in disbelief. We were staying at a hotel near the hospital so we could get there fast if we needed to. The doctor was concerned that his heart may not handle the new blood well, but there was no room left for us to stay on site.
The best day ever? I could think of a million better days. I could even think of bad days that were better days than this one. For starters, I hadn’t slept for a week, I felt like I hadn’t breathed for a week and, I hadn’t stopped praying that my three-year-old wouldn’t die for a week. If you asked me, this was the furthest thing from the best day ever.
But, ever since those straight from the heart words came out of the mouth of my precious boy almost seven years ago now, while he ate chicken fingers and played with a bouncy ball, I’ve never looked at things the same way again.
They were words that stopped me, surprised me and even shocked me. They were words that challenged the way I was viewing things, and to this day, they are a reminder to be sure I’m seeing everything before I decide how it is.
What we choose to look at is so important. What we focus on determines so much more than we even realize. He saw the chicken fingers, the hotel room, the time away with mom and dad (little brother free), the bouncy ball, the popsicles after all the needles, and the energy he had now that his hemoglobin had climbed past dead. He saw all the good things and decided based on what he saw, this was the very best day.
We saw all the horror we had just made it through and were still facing. From that lens, it really didn’t feel like there was anything good about the day at all. In fact, at the time, I was looking very forward to closing my eyes on the day, and previous week, and putting it all behind us as fast as possible.
In hindsight, I know something deeper now that I didn’t fully comprehend then: He was right. It was the best day ever. It was the day he lived and didn’t die. I just hadn’t seen the good yet. The bad clouded my judgment.
He saw what mattered most; he was still alive, he had breath in his lungs, he had another day to live and play and he celebrated all of his blessings with a genuine gratitude that I take notes from.
Ever since then, I am always careful to decide based on what I am looking at whether something is good or bad. Though we like to box and label things, we shouldn’t be so quick to do so. Because it may look bad, even very bad; it may look like the worst thing ever, but actually, be the very best thing.
Sometimes we miss the good because we just haven’t looked for it yet. If we focus too much on what isn’t good, we will miss all that is and that will change how we view the situation. We will make the assessment based on a limited view.
As I reflect on the state of our world, I am often sad. There is way too much hatred. People are being so unkind to one another and it honestly breaks my heart. I find I have to force myself to also look for the good. It can be a difficult choice when we feel surrounded by the opposite but it’s an important one, or we won’t get the full picture.
My hope is that we can all look back and just like I did with my son, realize there was so much good to come from what appeared to be not good at all. Maybe somehow this horror was the shaking the world needed in order to make people realize and appreciate how fortunate we all are, how blessed we are, how truly gifted we are to be alive.
Maybe this will be the catalyst that made us all realize we can and should do better.
Because we really can. We can love better. We can choose kindness more often. We can practice more patience and more grace for one another. We can be thankful for the little things we tend to take for granted, and we can unite rather than divide.
If we can realize these things, perhaps all of this really could be good, or in the least, have a shred of good amidst it. I sure hope so. In the meantime, I’ll cling to the hope in my heart that good will shine through.
Even on the very worst days, I will try to face every day with the enthusiasm of that beautiful three year old and his words that remind us all that every day is the best day, if we choose to see it that way.
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This is a monthly opinion piece; Alison Brown is a local business owner, mother and published author.
