I Can't. . .

I can't take a shower, but I'm thankful I can take a bath.
I can't sit at the table to eat, but I'm thankful I can stand at the counter with my family.
I can't go for a walk with my friend, but I'm thankful I can walk through the house.
I can't go to work, but I'm thankful that people can take over for me until I can return.
I can't make my own meals, but I'm thankful for family and friends that make me food.
I can't clean my house, but I'm thankful for responsible daughters whom I've trained well and who are       helpful.
I can't do my own laundry, but I'm thankful for helping hands who pitch in.
I can't sit on the couch to watch that movie, but I'm thankful I can join you by sitting in the recliner.
I can't spend time on my hair, but I'm thankful my stylist cut it so I don't have to.
I can't shave my legs, but I'm thankful for the grey hair so it doesn't show much.
I can't drive, but I'm thankful I can be a passenger.

There are many things I can't do right now.
There are still things I can do.
With my trusty cane, I can walk a bit farther, pick things up and get myself dressed.
With loved ones around me, I can do anything and am lacking in no thing.

I can't . . . but I'm thankful I can. . . .