By the time I was out of the car and into the hotel she had been checked in and was long gone. I then went through the check in procedure, double checked about the accessibility of the room and then received a map of how to get from the lobby to the room. It was a large hotel and the room was not accessible from the lobby. To get there we were recommended to get back into the car and then drive down the fairly steep driveway to the second building.
I really, really, really, didn't want to get back into the car. So when I got out I decided it might be fun to roll down the hill, a tad risky, but fun. I am almost 65 but occasionally I get the 'testosterone-stupids' and they hit full force. I pushed off and headed down. It was a wild ride but I never once felt any real fear because I had really good control of the chair. I reached the bottom and then started pushing over to the room.
As I was on my way, pushing on the flat driveway, the woman who'd been upset at where we parked came out of her room. She saw me in the chair, I saw her face react to the realization that we had been parked where we were parked so I could have easy access to the lobby. She broke into a smile and wished me a good day.
But, here's my thought.
Why did that matter? Shouldn't we all be just a little more patient with each other, a little more forgiving and understanding? Why does my wheelchair matter? There are all sorts of reasons that people may have parked there, up to and including, momentary selfishness. Who cares? There are so many things we have to deal with in our days that you'd think that the practice of giving and receiving understanding would be commonplace. You'd think that we'd all have a sense of proportion. Let me tell you if the worst thing that happened to me in a day was that I had to push around a car, I'm having an awesome day.
Anyways, her smile and my wheelchair interacted in such a way that I felt excused.
I didn't like it.
But if that's the worst that happens in my day ... it's a pretty good day.