Sunday, November 18, 2018

... is me: the final post

It comes to an end.

The saga of my chair being stolen, please don't tell me it wasn't, from the door at the airplane is done. For better or worse, it's done. I have letters to write, I have complaints to make, I have compliments to send, but that's simply wrapping it up.

When I got home I spoke to Ruby and Sadie and explained everything that happened to us. They already understood how hard the trip was because we came home to a bouquet of flowers welcoming us safely home. But now armed with the facts, the physical and the emotional ones, I asked them to come up with a way of cleansing the chair from the touch and presence of the woman who had sat in it.

They were all for it.

We held the ceremony last night.

I don't know if it worked.

I haven't sat back in it yet. 

But I do know that we all tried, we all cared, and we all were brought together.

We needed to be.

Because I have been traumatized and, to be honest, I don't know if our little ceremony was for the chair or for me. And what people will never understand is, much of the time, the chair is me.

I am not my chair, but my chair most definitely is me. And it is that me that was there last night, us together, hoping for a bit of a miracle. I want to be alone in my chair.

But we'll see what the morrow brings.

(Thank you for enduring the story of what happened, this is the final post in that series.)


8 comments:

Jenni said...

I'm glad you got your wheelchair back and that Rosa showed you some customer service people can really 'get it'.

I totally understand why you needed a cleansing ritual to make your wheelchair a safe space for you again. I really hope your ritual means you're able to feel your wheelchair is really yours again.

Lauralee said...

Enduring is the right word for it, i think.... i wish the people that NEEDED to experience it as written and posted .... complete with the agonizing wait (which i know gave us only a fraction of the weight of YOUR experience)

I dreamt last night of waking up after surgery to put my ankle back together and discovering that they'd lost my glasses.

Being unable to walk, drive, or even go home (because stairs) didnt matter. Pain didnt matter.

I needed my glasses, and the nurses, doctors, physiotherapists.... everyone that came into my room heard about it and not one of them was the least bit concerned.

It was traumatizing to me and nothing to them.

Didnt care much for revisiting the experience, though, i must say! But only partially your doing... still recovering from the surgery to remove the screws, so no doubt the combination of that plus your posts to blame 🙄

leslie sobel said...

What a traumatizing experience. I hope the cleansing ritual makes it all feel better - at least somewhat more freed from the pain.

CT said...

I am so sorry you went through this, Dave. The cruelty of it -- I can't believe the thieves (yes! how could they be called anything else) could do it to someone, but of course they could. They did, and others have, and you *knew* it was a significant risk, and that was not taken seriously, either.

There are layers of interpersonal brutality here.

I'm glad your chair is back. I hope the ritual helps. I wish there were not people in this world who would chose to do this to one another, and that you didn't have to keep thinking about this again, over and over when you travel. It's terrible.

Purpletta said...

Dave, What a beautiful way of healing from this trauma. I think it’s wonderful that you have pulled in the people you love & who love you to restore the sanctity of your chair. May their light and their deep love for you be the spirit that remains with the chair, with you.
~Purpletta

clairesmum said...

As I am reading this, it is 'the morrow', and around noon on the East Coast...hoping that you and your chair are getting reconnected. You wrote at the start about how this chair was the first one made just exactly the right way for you. I am hoping that you and the chair can repair the tear in the fabric of your relationship. Battered, but not broken.

And I'd gladly donate to a 'Go fund me" campaign for a good bike lock and a custom made WC bag for Joe to zip over the chair once you are out of it, something brightly colored and with the words PROPERTY OF DH (or some other labeling) on it. That would make it a whole lot harder for a thief to get very far if they did try to steal it. You've given me much of your wisdom and I'm a better person for 'knowing' you, Dave. I'd gladly pitch in.

Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt said...

I can think of no better ceremony than to love your chair back from being abused. You did everything you could to keep it safe, and others didn't help. But now you are reunited and reconnected through your family's love.

Ron Arnold said...

To experience a theft is certainly to experience a violation of 'self' - as yeah, your chair is you. I am glad you were able to perform a cleansing ceremony with Ruby and Sadie. If there were any words in particular that you'd repeated together . . . might be a good mantra to hold on to - in case there need be any touch up work.