Love & Goodness of Spirit...September 9, 2021

Here I am, in the mirror of Evan's dorm room.

Evan and Peter were moving in. Always the mom who helped, I couldn't the same way this year. My crutches dictated that I be more a director than a worker, when in reality my sons and Peter did just fine. I watched those three with pride and gratitude.

My prosthetic leg is fit in October. For now, I use crutches and have half a leg...there is no foot on one side of my pants or dress. When I asked my surgeon if I could go on this trip, or sort of pleaded...he became sober and said yes. yes, you can go.

But you will be amputee, Julie, and you will be on crutches. Remember this, Julie, he repeated.

I wondered about his words, curious how it all might be.

It was absolute heaven to head out on that trip. Every single piece of it made my heart swell in gratitude, at all the little and common stuff of life. Handicapped parking is a beautiful thing. I had no trouble getting around, I was just slower, and the logistics were smooth.

Then we went to campus. And I was different.

Very different.

There were lots of moms in Carthage shirts, or carrying pillows, but I didn't see another mom with half a leg. When I approached people in crowds, it was like the parting of the Red Sea. And when I was able to look up, from trying to make sure my crutch didn't go down curbside, I saw kind smiles, shy glances.

Never someone to be embarrassed, I had known an amputation wouldn't change my comfort in being who I am...and it didn't. But it changed the strangers around me.

I was suddenly oh so visible. There was me, and then everyone else with two legs. As people snuck their glances I saw curiosity, then fear and sadness in a flash. Oh gosh, their eyes seemed to say. How terrible, I feel badly for her. Something horrible must have happened to her.

And something horrible had happened to me.

So when they looked, a little of the brutality of what had happened came back. I was reminded of the last year, every single time, the brutal randomness and tenacity of the tumor.

The sadness of it all.

The heartbreaking sadness for me and my family and friends...and my eyes filled with tears at some moments.

But mostly these strangers eyes were kind, pure generosity of spirit. My God they are all beautiful, a whisper came...

...it was as if I saw their true selves, without the impatience and sure rudeness of our day to day life with strangers. We are invisible to one another so often, right? Not really looking at each other, but throwing out this knee-jerk disregard, maybe more often than not.

I now have people offer to open doors, of course, but they do more. They offer to order my meal if I am in a long line, and crosswalks make me laugh...cars actually start slowing half a block down. A store owner offered to pray for me, and asked my name. She asked for my name...wow, I wondered at it all.

A few people have also been sweetly embarrassed about their comments or questions. Don't worry, I comfort them...it is okay what you say...thank you for talking to me.

When the med assistant asked how much I weighed, I hesitated, because I have lost the weight of a leg. I laughed a little and said I don't know, and he realized the current silliness of his question. He got red in the face and said he was sorry for asking the question, so sorry, as he shook his head again.

I said it's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I soothed. It hadn't bothered me, because he talked to me. He talked to me, no matter how his words were strung, how pretty they were put together.

I told Peter that it is quite pleasant to think that from now until forever, I will see the goodness of strangers. For people are very generous, very good, when they see my predicament. I have learned it is quite jarring to see someone without a limb...and I have also seen how they respond with goodness.

Because beyond our arguments of politics and the environment, education and religion...beyond our arguments that separate us, there is this well of common goodness in us...and love, really. And I am blessed to see it more now.

So when people look at me with searching eyes that ask a question...I reassure them...I am okay, more than okay...I am very, very, very well, thank you. Filled with their love and goodness of spirit.

Let's be kind to one another today. All of us, together. And remember...everyone is fighting a battle we know nothing about...even if we can't see it.