The leg that lost a name
In the picturesque bar Cuéllar, where the patrons increasingly resemble sailors in a tavern, lives a man named Isidoro, who is missing a leg. This friendly character treated us to a fascinating demonstration of how his orthopedic leg works, controlled by an app that allows him to run, walk or stand still without bending over.
At that moment, I was overcome by a peculiar desire to possess a similar leg. But at the same time, I remembered that there is no specific term for those who have lost a leg. Those who have lost an arm are crippled, but those who have lost a leg have not only lost a limb, they have also lost a name, which is even more painful. The term ‘lame’ is not appropriate, as anyone can limp, even those who simply wear uncomfortable shoes.
The burial of the leg
After the amputation of Isidoro’s leg, he received the surprising news that he had to officially bury it. This procedure did not involve digging a hole in a field, but a formal burial. Although I knew that the loss of a family member required contacting a funeral home, I did not know that it was also necessary to do so in the case of the loss of a body member.
Reflecting on it, the logic became clear: you can’t keep a bed in the fridge next to yoghurts, lest one day your wife mistakes it for lamb and serves it for dinner with roast potatoes. In that case, one would immediately become vegan.
With regret, Isidoro lamented the expense of seventeen hundred euros that the burial of his leg had entailed. To encourage him, I suggested that perhaps they would deduct that amount from his own funeral. After all, his leg would take a long time to decompose, so it would be fair not to charge her for the burial of his entire body when her time came.
Taking it with humor, I told him: ‘Take it as if they were burying you in installments, friend. Today a leg, tomorrow an arm, and when it’s your turn, everything will be paid for.’
He seemed to perk up a little, but not much. To avoid stirring up her feelings, I refrained from asking her if many people had attended the burial of her leg or only those closest to her, that is, her other leg. I also don’t know if she printed funeral reminders with a verse from a poet, but I hope not, because no leg, no matter how bad it may have been in life, deserves such punishment.
The value of a leg
Now that I know the value of an amputated leg, I want to believe that the hospital doesn’t just give it to you in a bag along with the medical discharge, your wallet and your watch. A leg has feelings, and its former owner deserves a few words of comfort, even if they sound cliché: her leg never complained, we will remember her for her joy, all the nurses wanted to be with her, things like that.
There should be no lack of sentimentality that ensures that from now on there will be one more star in the sky, something that is included in every death.
A metaphysical dilemma
For believers, the situation is complicated, and not only because they will have to celebrate a mass for that leg that will never walk again, with liability included, but because of more metaphysical questions: do the legs go to heaven, assuming they are free of sin? Or do they wait in purgatory until the rest of the body arrives? How many legs await the final judgment in a situation that is, to say the least, uncomfortable? Here is a topic that the new bishop of Girona should address without delay.
Be that as it may, it is because of a leg that the words ‘rest in peace’ make full sense.
