Beau enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving luncheon today at Juniper—-eating all of his meal and half of Nora’s. Afterwards, he couldn’t get to his big leather chair fast enough. He wanted a nap.
When I was growing up, Beau prevented me from taking the post-turkey slumber. We had to walk around the block to offset a stroke. Yup, really.
After years of working in the ER, Beau observed that within an hour or two after the traditional time for Thanksgiving meals, stroke patients would start pouring in. Okay, maybe not pouring in, per se, but he did see a pattern of “eat, sleep, stroke” taking folks to heaven—long before “Eat Pray Love” became the popular route to Nirvana.
I’m grateful for all that Beau taught me over the years, crazy as some of it was for the child in me. But I lived to see him grin like he is in this picture. Still do. So if napping makes him even happier, I offer him back the bedtime ritual he created for me.
“Sleep tight, Beau, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
Followed by a kiss on the forehead.
“Your ole gal sure loves you.”