Can't get this woman off my mind...

Kelli is always on my mind, I don't make a single decision without thinking how it would impact her, our life, and now, the life of our child. This post has nothing to do with this basic fact.

Last week while on a business trip, I was jolted. It seems I don't get jolted much anymore and I think that's good - in a way. As we mature, things don't bother us as much as they might have when we are younger. We've experienced more in life, and we're just better able to handle things. At least that's how it is for me, and hopefully for you as well.

Let's face it. Most of us have it pretty good. I can't complain about one single thing, and you can ask my wife, I don't complain very much. However, I somehow seem to be able to find something to complain about or at least something for which to be in a bad mood from time to time.

Then you are jolted and you are reminded just how good things are in your life. My life is not perfect, but I can't tell it. What a wonderful thing to be able to say. I'll bet a lot of you bloggers could say the same, right?

So, I was in the gym working out, and as I walked over to get a drink of water, I saw a woman on the treadmill. Her back had been toward me as I was lifting weights. She turned slightly to her left, and I saw a horrible disfigurement on her face. I immediately looked away. I was morbidly curious as to what had caused this. Scenarios started running through my mind. Was she born that way? Was it an accident? What could have marred this poor woman's life? Obviously, I didn't find out.

After that, it seemed every corner I turned in my hotel over the course of the week, I would encounter this lady. Her disfiguration was much worse than what I had seen just on her left side. At one point, I was in the elevator with her alone. I wanted desperately to ask her what had caused this. I didn't, but it has just lingered in my mind continually.

She never spoke a word. She was very fit, her hair was nicely coiff'd, nails painted, nicely dressed, seemed to interact with her peers normally, but there was an obvious sadness in her face and in her reserved actions. I don't have more to say about her except that I was surprised to see her one last time as I was heading to my gate to fly home. She was several people ahead of me on the escalator, then she seemed to simply vanish after she exited.

I have tried not to think about her disfigurement, but it's been tough. I'm using this as an opportunity to remember NOT to complain about anything.

Scott