once lost, now found

I was at the grocery store this morning headed towards the eggs when I saw a woman bent down at her stroller talking to her fussing girl who was reaching towards a can of tomato paste. "You want that? Silly... you don't even know what that is." The woman then reached out to take a can off the shelf and put it in her daughters hands. As she leaned her body over, I saw a white cane with a red tip and realized the woman was blind. And then it occurred to me that the woman probably didn't know what the can was either.

Last night, Nate and I watched "Temple Grandin" and were really moved. It's based on a true story about an Autistic woman who grew up in the 60's when Autism wasn't understood very well. Regardless, she went on to college and ended up rooming with a blind girl. The blind girl was sweet and intuitive. Her part was small in the film, but it made me think about how our strengths can come from our weaknesses. The blind girl developed a strong sense of hearing, and Temple had a photographic memory. Ultimately, their weaknesses opened them up to compassion. The blind girl had compassion towards Temple. Temple had compassion towards animals.

As I stood with eggs in hand in the checkout line, I saw the blind woman walk by with who must have been her husband pushing the stroller. He was handsome and pleasantly smiling. Now I'm just speculating here, but I would assume that it takes a special person to be able to marry someone who has such an apparent and constant weakness. In a way, her weakness helped guarantee her a supportive and loving husband... because he had to be, if he accepted her disability.

It makes me wonder what weaknesses of mine Nate puts up with and how the extent of my weaknesses indicates how lucky I am to have Nate. He loves me in spite of everything - moodiness, flatulence, stubbornness, laziness, and back fat. Those are all just hypothetical weaknesses, mind you. Point is, we all have weaknesses and from them come strengths of all kinds... increased capacities, the recognition of being truly loved.

When Nate and I were in Mexico, he left his sunglasses by the pool one night. They were never turned in to the lost and found. Lame. Also, he'd forgotten his flip flops at home, so he went the whole week on a beach with squinty eyes and hot feet. He now can see through his eyelids and walk through fire unscathed. Cool.