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My sweet 14-year-old boy had a freak beak accident about two weeks ago.
I don’t even know what really happened, but the end result is that he is missing the lower third of his beak.
I’m hand feeding my hand fed baby again until his beak toughens up enough (and possibly grows back some) to eat more regularly.
So far he can eat soft, smaller seeds again. I feed him a couple of times a day some regular baby food per the vet’s advice.
A patient returned to the hospital with gifts for the staff who worked with him. He works with metal and so created these lovely crosses with inspirational words cut out like “Love” and “Faith.”
I chose “Hope.”
** My sister was delighted to see this cross as she has teased that my home was just not American enough because I had no cross wall. (Or is that a Texas thing?) I responded by placing the cross in an area that left no room for additional crosses.
My parents refused to drive with me until I had completed Drivers Ed. I turned the key for the first time with a stranger next to me and two random classmates in the back seat. I learned the finer points of accelerating, braking, and turning with a snickering audience who had the privilege of private lessons before performing in front of peers. I discovered blind spots and the carelessness of pedestrians. I learned to merge into highway traffic while a man forced my knee down harder and harder onto the gas pedal. I felt the rage of others. I had never been more afraid. This was one afternoon.
I still remember the thought I had when I first felt the power of metal and speed in my hands.
I could kill someone.
The enormity of such a responsibility was staggering; that understanding flooded my mind again as I considered the potential I now held in my hands.
There was no fear; the safety was on. I held a gun for the first time standing next to a man I trusted. I learned to check the chamber and load my gun. I passed over zombies and aliens to choose a target that didn’t easily allow for a flippant attitude during a lesson in deadly precision. I felt the weight of a ready gun in my outstretched arms. I centered my sights, held my breath, and fired.