Here is this person that I have to deal with every time I visit my bank. He is always at the front desk. The reason for his position could be that he is disabled. He cannot do tasks other than greeting the visitors and helping them to fill out forms. As the result of a stroke, his left hand is paralysed and his speech is impaired. His left hand dangles from the edge of his shoulder. It is practically useless. When he wants to place it on the table he has to use his healthy right hand to lift it. It is so sad. I used to wonder what is the use of carrying that hand around when it cannot do anything. However, he will not amputate that hand for the simple reason that it is very much part of him. It defines who he is. Without that hand, he will be a single-handed person. Without that hand, his body will lose it symmetry and also beauty. Though useless, he doesn’t ignore it when wearing a shirt. He treats it as a good hand, at least good for a shirt on. It is limited but the right hand is...
“I don't know what I think until I write it down.” ― Joan Didion.