When I say I’ve had a good day, it can mean any number of things, depending on what I did and how I felt physically and emotionally. Maybe I checked several items off my to-do list or enjoyed a pleasant visit with friends. Perhaps I learned something new, explored an interesting place, or simply had a chance to relax. The opportunities for me to experience a good day are vast; I am more likely to have a good day by pure chance than I am to have a bad one. Like many of us, I am fortunate in this regard. I wake up knowing that, with little effort, my day will probably be pretty good. With a bit more effort, it can be great. Even my bad days are, for the most part, minor inconveniences because I know they will pass. I’ve taken this for granted for most of my life.
Recently, I learned a valuable lesson about how differently a good day might be defined. It’s easy to take my good days for granted and to assume that others experience them just as easily. My husband, Alan, however, has a vastly different definition of a good day, and they come much less frequently for him. He has faced numerous obstacles throughout his life. As a child, he endured emotional and physical abuse, unstable family dynamics, and the early stages of physical disabilities for which we still lack an official diagnosis. But as a child, he was active, always moving, running, and pushing himself physically. Looking back, he often considers whether he knew intrinsically that he had to keep moving just to be comfortable. As an adult, he has worked incredibly hard to provide for our family, but the mostly sedentary nature of his IT career has contributed to and expedited his physical decline. Without constant movement, he steadily lost strength and stability, particularly in his back, neck, and legs, leading to pain, neuropathy, decreased coordination, shooting and stabbing pains, difficulty walking and standing, nausea, dizziness, and more. I know. His life sounds like the warning blurb at the end of prescription drug commercials, doesn’t it? For Alan, a good day means being able to enjoy parts of it, despite the limitations he faces.
When simply getting out of bed in the morning is painful, the definition of “good” changes. It becomes “hurt a lot, but still managed to enjoy some moments,” which is often the case for Alan when spending family time with me and our kids. In our current home, he usually remains in our bedroom, either reclined on the bed or lying flat on the floor, to alleviate pressure on his back. This position allows him to experience less pain, but for someone who genuinely wants to be an active participant in life, it is incredibly frustrating.
Our bedroom is tucked away down a hallway, past the stairs and laundry room, hidden from the kitchen, which is often called the heart of the home—and in our case, that’s certainly true. I spend a lot of time in the kitchen preparing meals and cleaning up afterward. Our teenagers frequently wander in, searching for snacks or just hanging out, as it serves as our household's common area. Even the dogs often join us, drawn by their food, water, and the presence of family. However, Alan is often excluded from this space. He loves cooking and used to take charge of our meals, but he no longer trusts his coordination with knives or hot pans. Maneuvering from the pantry to the stove to the sink now requires significant effort. The kitchen is cramped and difficult for him to navigate, especially when others are present. For obvious reasons, there is no bed or recliner in the kitchen, and lying flat on the floor is a silly and somewhat dangerous option, so Alan has to either stand or sit in a dining chair to be part of the action. As a result, he misses many good moments simply because he struggles to function in that environment while the rest of us move about freely.
So, what’s my point? Very simply, when someone says they’ve had a good day, it’s essential to consider what that truly means. Perspective is important and there are people in our lives whose good days are more challenging than the occasional run-of-the-mill bad days many of us experience. For those of us fortunate enough to say, “At least I have my health,” it’s important to truly understand what that means and how it would feel if that were no longer the case.
Now that I acknowledge and accept how Alan’s experiences differ so significantly from my own, I have the opportunity to enhance his days as well. With that bit of added effort I mentioned earlier, I can make adjustments to include Alan whenever possible. I can bring the party to him, so to speak. As we prepare to move, I constantly think about the house we’re going to build and how I can design it to better accommodate him, especially in the kitchen—the heart of our home. Because good days come so easily to me, I can extend that goodness to others, which only enriches my own days further. It’s a worthwhile effort, the impact of which I wish I had fully understood sooner!