Tonight I accompanied my mom while she brought dinner to a family from church. The lady is probably in her early 60's and is suffering from terminal lung disease.
4 huge tanks (barrel-size) of oxygen line the side of their living room, each with cords trailing behind this poor woman as she makes her way from room to room.
I left quietly but affected; grateful for my health, my freedom to come and go from the house as I please, and my job that I complain about so freely. If that doesn't make you count your blessings, nothing will.
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