Beautiful Stranger

The first time I saw her, she was walking past me in an airport terminal in Detroit. She was tan, had a perfect white smile and a bounce in her step.  Oh, and a head as bald as a bowling ball. A few minutes after I heard the announcement that my flight would be delayed for another hour and a half, I searched for a seat and spotted her again. As soon as I sat down across from her, she smiled at me and said, "It's getting cold in here. Is it cold to you?'' For the next hour, we talked about everything and anything. It was in the first few minutes that I asked, "Is that your chosen look, or is there a medical reason that you have no hair?'' "Oh, that. I have alopecia." It's a condition that causes hair to fall out. "Mine started falling out when my mother was diagnosed with cancer four years ago,'' she said. "I think from the stress.'' She said it looked so horrible that one day, she asked one of her brothers to shave her head. "When my twin sister saw it, she cried. But I loved it. It looked so much better than having bald spots everywhere.'' She said she had a few wigs but didn't like the way they felt. "They're hot and itchy.'' The more she spoke, the more beautiful she became to me. At 26 years old, she was completely comfortable in her own skin. Her fingernails and toenails were perfectly manicured with French-style tips. The golden tan from head to toe (literally) was the result of an afternoon tanning session. It felt good being in her presence. And, it eased the anxiety I had been feeling about flying.  I was so impressed with her maturity, her demeanor, her attitude. Then she completely blew me away as she revealed more about her life. She has seven siblings that include a disabled brother, Michael. "I'm his caregiver.'' My mind conjured up images of a little boy who needed to be fed, bathed and babysat. I was only partially right. "He's 34 years old and 6 feet tall,'' she said. "He doesn't talk, but he laughs a lot and cries . . . especially when he hears holiday music.'' She feeds him, sings to him, and changes his diapers. She left him in the care of two sisters so she could visit her twin sister in California. "I hope they don't leave him alone with my dad," she said. "I take care of him, too.'' At 70, her dad stills works, but she makes sure the house is supplied with everything he needs. "I've been doing it since my mom died.''

The call to board came too soon. We wished each other well and went our separate ways.

I saw her one more time at baggage claim at LAX. We made small talk for a few more minutes, then watched as our suitcases came around the turnstyle. We said our final goodbyes and embraced. "You are such an inspiration,'' I told her. "I wish you a great life.'' She thanked me, wished me well, smiled, and walked out the door.

Wow! I just met an angel.

Lines in The Serenity Prayer popped into my head:

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference . . .


Living one day at a time; 
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardships as the pathway to peace
. . . That I may be reasonably happy in this life . . . 

 I will never forget her and the impression she left on my heart.