Time on my hands

Going from working in a busy ICU, hospital care, to working in a Hospice, which is designed to look/act more like a really nice home/hotel, has been quite a difference. Where I work now is not clinical, in the least bit. It's a cluster of really nice rooms surrounding a gorgeous, high vaulted ceiling living room, with a fire place, comfortable couches and chairs to sit on, 2 dining rooms, a full kitchen, a small beverage center, a smaller, closed off sitting room. Very open concept everwhere else...

well you get the drift. Oh. And a pretty nice nurses station, too.

Anyhow

Its acceptable, in the middle of the night, while my charges are sleeping, and my paperwork is done, for me to go sit in the pretty living room, by the fire, in a comfortable chair, and read. I even got myself a Kindle, so I'd have portable books at my finger tips. (They even say I can nap, but I just can't bring myself to do that, I am 'working', after all).

So, I read. And last week, I finished this book, called "Defending Jacob", its by William Landay.

Now, I'm going to totally ruin the book for you all, so if you want to read it, you should probably stop here.

The book is about a man, who was his small town's assistant DA, whose 14 year old son gets charged with murdering one of his classmates. It turns out this father has violent men in his family tree, his own father is serving life in prison for murder. And his father before him killed some one, ect. ect.

So, they are exploring the concept of a "murder gene" with this kid. And it goes through the trial, the impact it has on the family, ect. ect.

In the end, the kid gets off, and they go on vacation. And the kid meets a girl. And, she dies....

hmmmm. But they can't charge the boy, no evidence at all.

So they return home, to their small town, and then, the mother of this boy gets him in a car, and drives them both into a big bridge cement pillar. Killing her son, and nearly herself

That ending really made me think. Especially now that I am a mother to a boy.

If I thought my son was a murderer, (now of 2 people), what would I do? If I knew he'd inherited this 'murder gene', and had the capacity to kill people, and learn from his first mistake, how to do it without getting caught, how would I handle it? Especially considering this boy was only 14 years old? Would I have the balls to drive into a bridge? No. Actually, I wouldn't. I just cannot even fathom it. Nor can I really fathom that MB would be a serial killer. It kind of brings to mind the whole nature vs. nurture arguement. Is it possible that there is a gene that predisposes people to murder, despite a stable, loving upbringing with two good parents and a happy life? What would a parent do, if that is the case? The book really got me thinking.

Oh, and in other news, MG got a kitten this last weekend, a little grey and white boy from the shelter. His name is Loki. And being as she left for school, right now the little mischief maker is laying on my arm, watching me type. MB is laying in the crib, complaining that he is in the crib. I'm trying to let him fall back asleep, but it's not really working that well. Once I bring him out, the cat runs to hide. (Smart cat).

How's things with everyone?