Like Mr. Imagination. He was 6'7'' and his gown was more like a shirt which so gently complimented his (probably stinky) white undies. He stays up every night from midnight to four reading the Bible. I walked in on my two o'clock round and found him intently starring at the cheesy little landscape picture they have on the wall. He then explained,
"I know I haven't been reading the Bible like I do at home, but I've been enjoying this picture. I've really been getting into it. I walked down that pathway and I got in the water. I think that is a river right there with a channel coming out that way. I have just been using my imagination and making this picture come to life."
He literally starred at the picture for two hours and analyzed every square centimeter of it. That's something we can learn from him- appreciating art.
I could tell his tattoos were homemade so I asked him about them because I knew it would be a funny story. He thought since I was asking him about them I was interested in doing one on myself. So he gave me very specific, and vague, and completely confusing instructions on how to do my own tattoo.
"You get five or six needles. And some white string. And some Q-tips. Now I used pen ink but you're not supposed to do that because it's dangerous or something. You use that... oh what's that called (two minutes later...) Indian ink! Use that Indian ink and write out what you want then stick the needles in about... this... far and wrap the strings around and blot it. Now it's gonna scab over. If you're diabetic you don't need to be doing this."
"Didn't it hurt?"
"Oh, I just had some Jack Daniels and Coke. Just a little glass about this big. It really didn't hurt."
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"People tell me I'm just like my Grandpa. I just get my Grandpa. He and I have the same mind. He used to read the Bible all night, too. He had that whole thing memorized. He would just write out all the verses on the wall. He didn't even have to look because he knew it by heart. He would write all over his walls and cover them with the Bible. And you know what was the end of him? When they sent him to Bryce Hospital (the mental hospital). He wrote all over the walls at Bryce, too. He covered those walls... People think he was crazy, but he wasn't crazy. I'm just like him and I'm not crazy."
He was the best. One of my favorite patients ever. And to think I only had him for one night. Sigh. He drank at least five cups of coffee that night. And was literally wide awake all night. Talking, talking away. We could hardly get out of the room.
Okay, I'm glad I wrote that down. Now I can always remember how funny he was.
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It's no piece of pie working all night then taking care of a baby all day. Even if he is the bestest baby ever and my hubby helps me when he's not at school from 10:00 am to 5:00 pm (or 11:00 pm after a long night at the temple...), still no piece of pie. Sleeping for one hour, then one and a half, then maybe two is a little demoralizing. I feel somewhat zombie-like, somewhat out-of-body. And mostly bad for my sweet child who I feel like I'm neglecting because I don't give him all the attention and brain-stimulating activities he deserves and he is perfect and only deserves at least two hundred kisses and smiles per hour, per day. But he understands. We are still in love.
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We had a tornado watch and severe weather today. It was the worst. It's the most helpless feeling to know a tornado may be coming when there is really only so much you can do. Dan's classes got cancelled so he got to spend the day with us. I wish I could have enjoyed it more. I was busy getting our bags together in case we had to leave and trying to get the house together. And Dan did physics homework for approximately five hours. We had the TV on allll day and watched James Spann and the radar map. That gets old. We almost went to the school to bunk out but we didn't get to that point. Thankfully it has passed us. Thank thank thank thank thank THANKfully! We used to like storms and think they were cool. Now they are just scary and kind of put a pit in our stomachs. It's hard to believe it's almost been a year since the tornado.
Here's to life and making every day special. To treating your best people like they really are your best people, not the ones who get your cranky side a little too often (ahem, myself)... To being thankful for the little joys in every day. I love my husband dearly. I adore my little precious mini-human and getting to kiss his incredddddibly soft and delicate little cheeks every day. He does not know his power when I am tired and cranky and he smiles at me at life is instantly perfected. I am thankful for my health and a sound mind. I am so blessed it baffles me.