Missed Opportunities

I missed an opportunity yesterday.  While sitting at the VA dental office waiting with my husband, a young man walked in.  The very first thing I noticed about him was that he was missing an arm and a leg.  But that wasn’t the most poignant thing I took away from the meeting.

He wore baggy shorts, a sloppy t-shirt, and grey running shoes.  His hair was shaggy and he only had one prosthetic.  His arm was missing just above the elbow but he used it when he gestured.  I noticed immediately that the end was not shaped as I thought it would be.  I could see the unevenness of the bone and muscles as he stood checking in at the window. 

The second thing I really noticed about him was his voice.  I like voices.  My husband has a faint Irish accent that I love to listen to.  This young man had a big voice that was soft.  It was far deeper than I would have suspected and as he turned he had the brightest smile on his face.  He exuded cheerfulness.  I smiled because I couldn’t help it.  He was adorable.

His wait was longer than the rest of the people, mostly men who’d not seen these last conflicts whose only visible maladies were old age and hard living. He stood a few times, not awkwardly but not gracefully.  It took him a little extra to get up.  But he did, and he did it once for joke about a man’s name.  Miller.  He stood up and said “I wonder if he yells ‘It’s Miller time’ when he gets to a party.”  We laughed, and he laughed and sat back down.

When a man’s name was called who’d been there far less time than he, I looked over and told the young man they were messing with him now and winked.  He smiled and raised his eyebrows.  They eventually called his name and he went into the back offices.  A short time later my husband came out turning my focus back to him.  Trips to the VA are always stressful for him.  He doesn’t like strangers close to him or being away from the house.

This morning though, my thoughts turned to that young man.  I regret not speaking to him candidly.  Asking him, not how he was injured, but what he’s doing to keep that smile on his face.  He was so happy and adorable I wanted to hug him like I’m sure his mom hugged him when he was able to stand again.  I missed a chance I probably won’t get again, but if I do, I’ll seize it.  I will speak up at the risk of being that strange woman who talks to every veteran she sees.  I will hand out my email address and I will not pass up the chance again to talk to someone who is amazing.