Whoosh
Wow, I'm really flattered. I didn't do anything special, just my job. I do this with everybody.
It broke my heart, too. I believe in God and life after death and these are the times I think, "When I die, Somebody's got some 'splaining to do!" One of the first things I want to do after death is ask whoever's in charge what the point was of killing the only normal kid that poor lady had.

While I was washing him, I asked him mom to tell me stories about him. That always helps me, to hear what people were like,, funny things they did or said. When I'm taking care of them, I talk to them too, to say how sorry I am, what a rough break their death was, how much their family loves them and so on. With children or infants, you can't help but smooth their cheek and say, "oh, punkin".
He was quite the feisty little cut-up and liked silly puns and practical jokes. He would wait til the student doctors had to examine him and then let out a scream as they pressed or touched him just to see them jump. He was a riot.
And I scalded my tits, too.
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Mon 3 Mar 2008, 5:33, Reply)