A few weeks ago, during my beloved nephew's graduation I met a handsome man.
Many of us had traveled long ways to attend this graduation.
This handsome man was there with a family member and the quietest man I've met in a long time. We were all very excited to see each other that first night and I know we are all very talkative people. But not a peep out of him.
That evening my husband and I asked each other if we know anything about him? We both said we've heard he is an artist. Ok... So he may have been shy that first night and not said anything. Or to romanticize the situation he may be the water runs deep kinda soul and he is observing us so that we can figure in his next art work ? Whatever...
48 hours later and we still didn't know this person. Still no more than a hello and goodbye from him. It must have been painful to be so quiet among such lively and talkative people.
But then everything changed when we had to say our final goodbyes to travel our long distances back home. I went to him for a handshake and to wish him and his family a safe trip back home. His handshake was SO firm and he squeezed my hand so fiercely that I literally bent my knees and went "ahhh" in pain. But he didn't seem to notice. He smiled and was forever gone.
It is now three weeks later and my hand still hurts. I have to suddenly let go of things specially if I'm holding a pot. Had he not hurt me I would have long forgotten him by now... He may not have been talkative but he sure was an unforgettable pain...
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
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