Whee happens. In the most unexpected places.
Not long ago my Dad was moved from a hospital to a physical rehab center. This place reeked of last stop before death.
Three nurses participated in the intake interview and examination. One of them was a catalyst for whee wherever she went. As they were asking questions, testing his oxygen and blood levels, she was singing, she was dancing, dreadlocks tumbling about.
At one point a nurse asked Dad to inhale oxygen from a mask attached to a hose — to see if they could get his oxygen levels to rise. He pretended to inhale it like a drug, giving a loopy mostly toothless grin as if he’d sunk into some sweet hashish.
Dad was asked to change from his clothes into the standard hospital gown. As he pulled off his pants, he exclaimed in his aged raspy voice:
“I found it, my penis. There it is! I thought I’d lost you!”
This made the dancing dreadlocked woman howl — we all were laughing — she was baying at the moon she was laughing so hard.
“I’m gonna sneak back in later and crawl under those covers with you!” she teased.
This made an old man smile . . . . .
Click here for occasional notes on creativity + spirituality + whee.