Grandma can't drive anymore so she takes taxis everywhere she needs to go. Our first taxi ride was to the doctor on the other side of town. The taxi came to pick us up at her unit. After we got her in the front seat, we went to put her walker in the trunk, but the trunk was full. We slid the walker in the back seat on top of us. It was so funny to see. Nana was totally squished underneath it. As we drove out, the taxi driver asked where we were from (as everyone has, apparently "Utah Mormons" are even known as far away as Melbourne, Australia...) Instead of the usual "Oh." that I get, he (while driving) turned around and anxiously said, "Do you belong to the LDS church?" When we said yes, he started pointing excitedly (once again, while driving) towards their local chapel. By the time we made it to the hospital, we knew pretty much everything about him, from his conversion to the gospel four years ago, to his marriage that was performed there at the chapel to a Catholic woman who hasn't yet converted. It was so fun to see how excited he was to share what we have in common. And in the end, we did make it safely to the appointment, although there were several moments during the drive/conversation that I was completely doubtful...
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