It's such a perfect day.

osamah:

this one goes out to all them fine hunnies

(via allyrhodesmusic)

It will take just 37 seconds to read this and change your thinking..

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.

One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs.

His bed was next to the room’s only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end.

They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation..

Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.
Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by.

Although the other man could not hear the band - he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days, weeks and months passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.

She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.
He strained to slowly turn to look out the window besides the bed.

It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.

The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.


She said, ‘Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.’

Epilogue:

There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.
Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.
If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can’t buy.
‘Today is a gift, that is why it is called The Present .’

The origin of this letter is unknown, but please pass it on.

(via anothergrandimpulsivity)

Headcanon accepted

(Source: riverwouldknowthough, via thegirlwaiting)

(Source: youaftershock, via bandboysonly)

(Source: joey-graceffas-psychopaths, via joeygraceffa)

nashoverstreet:

This photographer likes it blurry. Hangin w @arianagrande

the-bing-dog:

Whoa

This happened just now, and it made me think about how insanely blessed I am, and I thought it deserved to be shared.

So for those of you who don’t know, my parents divorced when I was very young (around five years old). Although they are both remarried now, and I have two unbelievably lovely stepparents, there was a time in my life where I was going back in forth between two apartments, both of which held a single parent.

Now I have one sister and one brother, so this presented problems on both sides of the spectrum. The problems that are relevant to this story, however, are the problems that my dad faced raising two girls on his own. He had to learn the lefts and rights of little girl hair styles, little girl clothes, little girl nail polish, etc. I will always hold my dad in the highest esteem for this. I count it among his highest accomplishments. Especially because he knew how to put our hair up in those complicated, double-ball, ponytail holders from the 90s. You know, these. And the man was good at it. Way to go, Dad.

Anyways, back to the present. My sister has some friends over, and they were all painting their nails and gossiping and figuring out how they’re going to do their makeup for tomorrow’s band banquet. I was up there with them, just listening in and painting my nails, blah blah blah. It was nice to have a girl’s night with those beautiful girls.

So it starts getting late, so I finish up with the top coat on my nails and head downstairs to get ready for bed. This proves to be a difficult process, because my nails are wet and I’m trying to brush my teeth and take out my contacts and put on my pajamas… It’s not pretty. I’d had a headache forming all night (maybe from the acetone smell, maybe the screaming children, who knows), and it started getting really bad as I climbed into bed. So I went into the kitchen and took some ibuprofen, and then reached up to take my hair out of its ponytail to relieve some pressure.

Remember those wet nails?

For the life of me, I can’t get my hair out of my ponytail holder unless I want to risk ruining my nails, and I do NOT handle that very well. So I climb the stairs and knock on my parents’ door, expecting to ask my stepmom to give me a hand. When I open the door, it’s just my dad on the bed, so I ask him to help me out. He smiles and stands, and begins to very gently work the elastic out of my messy bun. A few seconds later, he presents the holder to me and kisses my head.

“Goodnight.”

My head immediately floods with the memories of the day when I was 14 years younger and completely dependent on my dad to do my hair. It was a very heart-warming moment that was much needed by this newly-returned and very exhausted college kid.

Thanks, Daddy.

Many people would say that I come from a “broken” home, and I can see why. My parents got divorced. That’s a big rip in a family. However, I couldn’t come from a more loving and complete home. I have been blessed by four amazing parents and more siblings that I can count. And I am so very thankful for that.

Goodnight, kids.

modernhepburn:

Yes, you.

(Source: brightandclean, via myjourneytofindhope)

bandboysonly:

omg the last guy

i just can’t

(Source: nydotr)