Breaking a Sweat: Sardines
No, I did not eat sardines before working out this morning. However, I did feel like a sardine when I went to my Pilates class this morning. I will be glad when the New Year's Resolution people finally start dropping off the roster. It also doesn't seem to matter that I called and reserved my spot 24 hours in advance. If you don't get in there right as the previous class is ending, you're stuck trying to shove yourself in between people who have already set up their little stations with their mats, balls, etc. and you end up feeling like a dumbass.
But then halfway through class I noticed that a lady in the far corner was wearing an Angry Birds t-shirt and I instantly felt better. Nothing like a little comic relief to make all your frustrations melt away.
Richards, Richards Everywhere
I'd mentioned a while back that since my dad passed away almost all of my patients have been men. I've had one female patient since October and I only saw her for two weeks. This week I was suddenly inundated with patients named Richard. Probably a coincidence, but since my dad's name also happens to be Richard, I can't help but wonder if he's trying to tell me something. I've been told by friends who've lost loved ones to look for "signs" that your loved one is communicating with you somehow or letting you know that they are with you. Patients named Richard might be my sign, who knows? As soon as I found out I had yet another patient named Richard, I immediately went to Tato's pink doodle pad and wrote him this message:
Then, a really weird thing happened this afternoon. I went to see one of the new Richards - my first visit with him. Sweet man, sweet wife, really nice visit. It was a great way to end the work day. As I was leaving I noticed this book sitting on their kitchen table . . .
I did a double take, because this is a book that was widely read in our household when I was growing up. My mom read it, my dad read it, my sister and I both read it after both our parents insisted that we read it. The gist of the book is this: "In 1970 “Papillon” was published and set the world on fire. It is the slightly inventive autobiography of Henri Charriere, a man sentenced to life imprisonment in French Guiana, in the 1930’s, for a crime he did not commit. The graphic accounts of the misery and inhumanity of the French penal system were a sensation and the book sold millions, becoming one of the best sellers of all time."
Awesome, awesome book. My parents loved this book and after reading it my sister and I could see why. It was completely riveting. The only place I have ever seen this book is at our house during my growing up years and the only time I've ever heard of it was when my parents were telling us to read it. And there it sat - on the table in the house of the second patient of the week named Richard.
I have no idea what this means - but I think I have to find the book the next time I go to my mom's house and I think I have to read it again.
Sibling Love
I know my kids love each other. They may not always show it - like when they're shoving each other or saying "Get away from me!" or "JAAAAAAACCCCKKKK, SSSSSSTTTTTTOOOOOOPPPP!!!!!" But they have these wonderful moments where all that pent up sibling love bubbles over and they just can't help but show it.
I was away last weekend on a girls' weekend away - that's another story. John was home alone with the kids all weekend. He told me that one night, after he'd already tucked both kids in and said goodnight, he was sitting in the computer room and he heard the kids talking to each other from their beds. After a short while, he heard Jack say "Ella, do you want me to sing you a song?" and then he sang "Somewhere over the Rainbow" to her in its entirety. John said it was the cutest thing he'd ever heard. I sing the same song to both kids every night at bedtime, so I was not surprised to hear that Jack knows every single word.
When a ten year old boy sings a song about rainbows and bluebirds to his little sister, that's love.
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