These are moments that I usually make a point to pay attention to. It’s always useful to have a specific moment in mind, when she is doing something completely mundane and totally confident and at ease. You can remind her of that moment and tell her it was when you realized how special she is, or how beautiful or whatever. Or even when you started to fall in love with her, if you want to open up that particular can of worms. This was one of those moments. She seemed to be a completely different person than the one who I met in the bar earlier in the evening. She was open and calm and joking with me. There was no shyness or self-consciousness about her missing hand. She was glowing with life and energy.
The only fly in the ointment was that I couldn’t use this particular moment because of what she happened to be doing. She had just completed some crucial stage in the net of fishhooks. She draped it over her hook and turned it around several times, pulling at this angle or that stray section. Every few turns she would add another fishhook and then invert the whole structure and begin again. It almost looked like some kind of jagged creature coaxing its hungry offspring out of an egg-sac. My hand stung just looking at it. I couldn’t help checking the bandage to see if it had started bleeding through. I could never use a moment like this. Not if I had any hope of appearing sincere.