Maybe it was Memphis

Jet lag + exhaustion + letdown from having to leave an awesome trip behind + general suck = Midol time arriving a few days early. Take cover, kids — it’s a bitch-on-six-cylinders kind of day!

I knew it was coming, though. I had a layover in Memphis this weekend, and I had way too much time on my hands (read: only four gift shops and a 90-minute stay there. I bought some Memphis Mary and that was all she wrote). So I parked myself at my gate and decided to people-watch.

And while tons of people caught my eye, I most remember a young Southern gentleman, about my age, who walked slowly, with a little bit of a limp.

But why I was enraptured by him was how he would walk up to every uniformed service member he saw — which was a lot — and he stopped each one to shake their hands and to say thank you for everything they are doing to serve our country.

And I burst into tears all six times I witnessed it up-close. He may have acquired a war injury as a young soldier himself, perhaps explaining his careful gait. Maybe he was just brought up with mannners and/or he’s a true Southern gentleman, with his approaching of these military men, most of whom looked to be barely 18.

In any event, I don’t know if those deployed fighters were as touched by this young man as I was, but this blog entry is my little way of saluting him right back, especially because he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would have even thought about being noticed or remembered for such a small (but so significant) act of kindness and gratitude.

*Crying again, this time realizing industrial, Costco-sized bottle of Midol is at work. Waah!*

2 Responses to Maybe it was Memphis

  1. Janet :

    Period time + touching scenario = extra heightened emotions.

    I feel your pain, literally.:)

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