During my last visit with my Uncle Bob, who was in the later stages of Alzheimer's, he sat quietly in the corner, commenting occasionally on things not relevant to the moment, with the exception of noting a time or two what pretty girls my daughters were. He didn't know they were my daughters. He didn't know me. But the impression burned in my brain is of his sweetness, the gentle disposition of a man whose memories were no longer his own.

Now my mother has been diagnosed with the same disease, and my brother tells me from hundreds of miles away of her occasional flashes of near violence, misdirected anger that makes it difficult for him and his wife to know how best to manage her.

None of us blames her, of course; she is no longer in full charge of her behavior. But the dramatic difference between these siblings' response to a disabling condition makes me think about how attitude and interaction with others play vital roles in the ultimate well-being of people with disabilities.

People with physical, cognitive and psychological disabilities need to rely upon others.

Help needed can be as simple as a ride to the grocery store or as complex as dressing and bathing. The quality of that assistance can be dramatically affected by the spirit of receiving displayed by the person needing help.

In graduate school, one of my roommates was quadriplegic. We used to tease her about her use of the pronoun "we." "We cleaned the apartment today," she might say, or "we built a new bookcase." The reality was that she couldn't move more than her forearms, head and shoulders independently, but she was so delightful, so warm and engaging that people always did what she asked and affectionately allowed her to assume half the credit.

On the other hand, I have known or heard from people with disabilities who are always enmeshed in combative or rancorous encounters. Personal care assistants won't stay with them; restaurant owners won't admit their service animals. People at the supermarket are discourteous or impatient with their inability to move swiftly; no one wants to help them get to work when the bus is late.

In observing thousands of interactions in my life and those of others with disabilities, the single most likely factor determining positive interaction is good old-fashioned positive attitude. A simple smile and friendly word can go an incredibly long way toward attracting needed assistance, welcome admission, or kindness and respect.

Our tradition in the next few days is to reflect on the past year and resolve to take actions that will improve our little piece of the universe. My challenge to all people - and particularly people with disabilities - is to put more emphasis on expressing appreciation for those who assist and contribute to our well-being and happiness.

I'm not talking about groveling in abject gratitude here. The most severely disabled individuals can know true independence if they take control of their own lives, and no one should feel diminished because a disability necessitates assistance from another.

I am talking about making a concerted effort to smile at others, express interest in the life and plans of someone who helps you on a regular basis, or asking how you can help another who has shown willingness to help you.

No matter how significant your disability, there is always something you can give back. Maybe you can barter activities - like baby-sitting for the friend who gives you rides to church, or filling in for the co-worker who helps take down your Christmas tree.

My guess is you'll not only find it easier to get things done, but you'll find others smiling back at you as well.

Contact Deborah Kendrick by phone: 673-4474; fax: 321-6430; e-mail: dkkendrick@earthlink.net.