Sure – most days 😉

My below-knee amputee (BKA) prosthesis draws attention from all sorts of people – including many, many curious children. In store aisles, I catch kids staring – in that really-interested-not-rude kind of way. I usually just smile, though sometimes I just give a blank stare. Like I’m in the middle of rebooting. When they say something like “Look, mom, a robot!” I’m tempted to correct them and say in an emotionless, monotone voice “No, I’m a cyborg.” But I’m an introvert, so I usually don’t.

An Airport Encounter: The Story of That One Dude

This happens a lot in airports, where people strike up conversations with random strangers all the time. Recently at an airport, I met This One Dude, or TOD. He worked at my departure gate’s counter, and I first spoke to him when I asked about expected delay times and seating. After getting my answer, I took a seat near a window and pulled out a book to read while I waited for the call to board. TOD approached me and politely asked if he could bother me with a quick chat. After the long morning of not really speaking with anyone, I was ready for a conversation, so I said “sure” and invited him to sit.

While we chatted, the airport was full of fast-paced movement around us, people zipping by dragging their suitcases. The morning sun gave everything a chill vibe, making our chat feel like a calm little safe space in the middle of all the rushing.

After some initial weather-related banter, he asked me how my leg was treating me. I told him – honestly, it was a pretty good day. He then shared that his mother-in-law, a fairly recent double amputee, had moved in with him, his wife, and his four (or maybe five) children, which was…an experience. TOD nervously clasped and unclasped his hands around his coffee cup, That simple act, filled with unspoken nerves, somehow made the space between us feel smaller and more intimate.

She moved in with them because they lived in a ranch, while her house – which she was keeping “until she could walk proper again and move home” – was a two story. He said the change was taking a lot to get used to, but his mother-in-law was in good spirits, so the change was worth it. His mother-in-law was a character, and TOD shared lots of funny stories – which I won’t repeat here…not in this post, anyway – so when I finally boarded the plane, I knew I had my leg to thank for that encounter.

The Unspoken Conversations and Shared Glances

These moments of connection, from TOD’s heartfelt sharing to the innocent remarks of children, have gently coaxed me out of my introspective shell. They’ve shown me the power of human interaction, the beauty that lies in the shared and the unspoken. Each person I encounter, each story that unfolds before me, adds another layer to the rich narrative of my life.

These quick little moments of connecting really say a lot, like they’re quietly telling stories of understanding and seeing each other without needing words.

A brief, shared smile with a stranger who noticed my prosthesis, a nod of understanding from another amputee; these fleeting moments of connection speak volumes, weaving a silent narrative of empathy and recognition.

Gratitude and Reflection

To everyone who has crossed my path, from TOD to the curious children, thank you. Your perspectives, stories, and silent inquiries have deepened my appreciation for our shared humanity, enriching my journey and fostering profound connections. Each interaction—from a glance to a conversation—teaches me about empathy, unity, and the silent bonds we share. This journey, highlighted by moments of self-reflection and shared experiences, reminds me of the diverse ways we connect, celebrating the strength and beauty found in our collective human experience.

Let’s take the chance to chat with someone who seems different next time we’re out and about. It’s a simple move that can make our world a whole lot friendlier and more understanding. 🙂