I went to see Chihuly for the third time on Friday. The beauty surprises and inspires me each time. But this time, I saw a zombie too. A real life zombie who took a picture of us….or the sculptures we happened to be next to. He had purple painted finger nails and contacts that made his eyes white. We followed him into the gift shop to get a better view of his spooky eyes.
Tonight, our dinner time conversation was dominated by the details of Alex’s class trip to the county jail. He saw the inmates up close and personal and the padded isolation rooms. He learned that inmates can’t have colored images from newspapers because they may tattoo themselves and all the staples are removed from their mail so they can’t be used as weapons. An inmate in a wheel chair is kept apart so the other inmates don’t use his wheelchair as a weapon.
The girls and I saw a bear on 288 yesterday. It was dead and Gigs thinks it was a cub. Our sighting was substantiated last night at a chili cook off. Someone else saw it too, passed it twice, and confirmed it was a bear. My running career has been put on hold until I am sure there aren’t anymore bears.
I saw my man, the man with the hands like my dad, this morning. He was riding a bike, a leisure bike, on the sidewalk on Cary Street. He was smiling and holding his head high without a care in the world. I smiled because he was feeling better and looking so joyful but then I blinked because I realized I was hoping, wishing, it was really my dad.
Zombies, bears, inmates and bike riders…moments that splash into my life leaving images as unforgettable and random as my five year old taking a shower with his shirt on because he was too tired to remember to take it off.