No Holding Back

I have a resident who tells it like it is. Luckily she has vision impairment or else I'm sure I'd hear that my outfit doesn't match, I need to lose a few pounds, or I need to re-think my makeup. Instead, I just get to hear what she thinks about her husband, her living situation, and everything in between.

Lydia: Where's Henry?

Me: I'm not sure, Lydia. But I bet he'll come to visit you soon.

Lydia: I hope so. I love my Henry.

Me: I know you do. And he loves you.

Lydia: He's my everything, honey.

Me: That's sweet.

Lydia: Now where is he?

Me: I think he's at home, but he'll come by soon.

Lydia: Home? That son of a b*tch left me here.

(One hour later -- I'm trying to redirect her as she's calling out "Help!" or "Henry!")

Me: So tell me how you met Henry...

Lydia: I was 15. We got married when I was 16.

Me: Oh! Highschool sweethearts...

Lydia: We sure were. But where is he?

Me: So how many kids do you have?

Lydia: Three or four.

Me: I can see you being a great Mom.

Lydia: Yeah. But you better believe I spanked their asses when I had to.

I'm tired. And cranky. And a little anxious about turning 27 this weekend. But man, if laughter keeps me alive and young, then I'm thankful for these conversations.