Millie and Me

On Memorial Day -- The man at Pottery Barn

Pottery Barn...oh how I love sifting through your treasures.  On road trips, I sometimes take the rare opportunities to go into an actual store, where I can touch, feel and pick up all those cool gadgets, linens and knickknacks I usually only see in the catalog.  On one such trip, I was waiting in a rather lengthy line, clutching my had-to-have-it peridot-green glass vase and absentmindedly making up a life story for the couple standing in line ahead of me.  I imagined they were newly married, picking out items for their registry, and on an impulse, picked up some wine glasses they couldn't wait for.  

And then I realized the man only had one leg. 

Well, two legs -- one of flesh and blood, the other a strong curve of metal.  

And then I realized it had taken me several minutes to notice that the man standing right in front of me was wearing a metal leg.  Not one of those designed to look like a natural leg, but one of those slick, arched ones you see on athletes.  And he was wearing shorts.  

And then I wondered why it had taken me that long to notice something that should be a shock.  Has it become so commonplace?  The thought made me sad.  I suppose a silver lining to all the damage this war has wrought will be an unprecedented shift in this country's psyche -- that we will be more accustomed to seeing people with missing limbs or other physical disabilities, and that they will no longer elicit shock, pity, or a child's pointing finger; no longer be seen as "other."  Already there have been vast improvements in prosthetics and PTSD research.  But I still hate the idea that such damage, such trauma should be so commonplace that it would take me minutes to recognize it in plain view.  

Of course, I immediately re-wrote the couple's story in my head.  For all I know, he was born without the leg -- but to me, he was newly returned from combat, and figuring out what his new "normal" was.  

There's a lot of that going around.  

- Brandy