It was just a little outing but in my mind it was so much more. Joe wasn't feeling well yesterday and we had planned on going out on a 'date' ... just a jaunt over to Yonge Street to have a tea and people watch. But when he got up yesterday his voice had deepened and blurred and I knew he wasn't well. I took Wheetrans to work and Joe went back to bed.
When I got home Joe was all set to go out and I simply sent him back to bed. We have plans for the weekend that I knew he was looking forward to. I told Joe that I'd head out to pick up a few things in my power wheelchair. I left the apartment and was on my own down the hallway, leaving the building I headed over to the grocery store, I had a bag over my arm for shopping and a grin on my face.
In the mall I first went for a tea and sat sipping it while watching people stroll by. I kept glancing over to the chair where Joe usually sits to see if somehow he'd magically appeared. I don't much go out without Joe and his absence was not simply noticed, it was distrubing. I didn't finish my tea.
I finished up the shopping and headed straight back home. I had a little trouble negotiating the elevators all on my own. Like a comedy skit I'd push the button, back up to wait, but every time it came, the doors were just slightly too quick. Finally I had to ask someone for assistance.
As I rolled home, I thought about all the imagining I've done over the past year or two about the independance that the chair would give me. The ability to go out on my own. Do my own thing. Then I had an odd realization. Before my disability Joe and I did pretty much everything together too. The only difference was that I moved under my own steam not needing his assistance. We walked together but we were always together.
Somehow I had misremembered my life before. I had made it something different than it was in my mind. I had coloured my past with crayons of a different hue. Me before was precisely the same as me after. I hadn't altered much. I'd made much of small differences and conjured fantastical big differences - how odd. I'd really remembered and pictured, vividly, things that simply weren't true.
I wonder how much of my past is plagued with remembering wrongly, remembering selectively, or remembering wishfully? I wonder how many people, destroy the enjoyment of present circumstances with memories of a past full of false possibilities.
Home again. Shopping done. Something I thought would be a mammoth acheivement turned out just to be a lonely chore. Hmmmmm. And Hmmmmmm, again.