Last night.
Nothing happened.
It was just a regular old Friday evening. We got home from work. We went shopping. Dinner was made. Television was watched. Both missed final Jeopardy. Snuggled into bed to read. Fell asleep.
Nothing happened.
But it was a wonderful evening.
I woke up this morning and lay in bed for a little while. I've been thinking about 'the day' on and off for a couple of weeks now. I had been planning to set down the story of my own disability, how I went from walking to rolling in about four days. So it's been playing through in my mind. Sometimes I write things spontaneously, like today, but other times I need to mull through the story first. It's hard to understand the flow when you are on the boat.
So I've been thinking about that day. And I remembered my right leg losing the power to hold me up. Of falling. And falling. And falling. I remembered laying in bed and wondering if it was all over. Wondering if there would be no more days made special by their very, wonderful, comforting ordinariness. This fear is probably at the base of so much despair ... I'll never be me again ... I'll never live another normal day.
Even though I knew people who fell, and laughed. I knew people who rolled and contributed. I knew people with disabilities and saw how both their personhood and their disability folded up into a uniquely cool package. But it didn't matter. That was 'special them' this was 'only me'.
I didn't realize that it didn't take courage to turn disability into normality. It didn't take, God Forbid, spunk to turn extraordinary circumstances into wonderfully ordinary days.
It only took time.
I'd love to read more. The transition is very difficult and at first I felt like I was between categories (invisible impairment to invisible disability to visible disability)--with each, I didn't feel like I quite belonged yet because I didn't know if I was a temporary visitor or if the stay would be longer. Like you, I knew other wheelies and people with disabilities and accepted them, but it was difficult to change identity for me--like waking up one day with a different skin color or as another gender. It's fine, but takes some adjustment and some understanding of really living an entirely different culture.
ReplyDeleteI think sharing the transition with others would be inspirational for all of us. We need reminders of others struggles to get us through our own and to better learn how to support others. I also think that would be hard to do because the personal struggle then becomes public when it is shared. I love ordinary days!
ReplyDeleteI remember attending a wkshop that explored the issue of aquiring a disability and the complex pieces that are often not understood or talked about by many professionals which leaves people experiencing this feeling overwhelmed and isolated.
ReplyDeletea ps to my post.
ReplyDeleteJust googled her.....ck out
LIVING WITH HEART BY sALLY sCOTT
I wondered what you were going to do with that ridiculous moment in time... Hmm - stepping aside and letting it whoosh right by you! Brilliant, Dave. Loved it.
ReplyDelete(Yes, folks, this stuff really does happen to Dave.)
Whoops. I left my comment on the wrong day, didn't I? Oh, well, that left room for me to leave an even better one up there today. :)
ReplyDelete