Playing the Violin

Hello! Well, I have a decision to make. Tonight is an event that seems like a good time, starting at 7:30 when movies are shown at a venue downtown that I have never been too. There's one movie I've never seen (The Greatest Showman), followed by one I've grown up with ("Big" with Tom Hanks). And they're all preceded by circus-esque entertainment and food--however...there will be balloon animals for the kiddies:( Alarms and sirens! I have a major latex allergy, as I'm pretty sure I've mentioned before. Annnnnnd anaphylaxis in the middle of a crowded theater doesn't sound like too much fun. But I could still take my chances. Maybe the organizers anticipated a variety of interest in their event, and somehow prepared for every possibility with pre-made (somehow) MYLAR balloons. Which brings me to Option 2 for my Friday night's entertainment. I could go back to the UICA and see an indie film with Joaquin Phoenix, in the comfort and safety of a place I've been a million times. Hmmmm...to go outside my comfort zone or NOT to go outside my comfort zone? This is definitely a dilemma many of the Disabled seem to face. We're often reticent to try new experiences 'cause we just don't know if they'll take all of our challenges into consideration. Why would I expect that the people putting on this big draw movie showing/circus would have considered the possibility that somebody among in the audience would have a latex allergy? It's a downtown, indoor, theater--not a hospital (almost all of which are now latex-free facilities). Entertainment doesn't need to be for EVERYONE does it? And that's just the thing. It should be. That's what entertainment is FOR. Ramps and accessible bathrooms, designated seating for wheelchairs and adherence to ADA specifications are one thing. When is it going to dawn on businesses and venues to go above and beyond to welcome as many different types of people as possible? Being a modern-day hermit in your third story apartment, just because the world doesn't invite you--seems so wrong. The world SHOULD invite EVERYONE. It's unfortunate that we are silently told, in so many ways, that the world would rather we just stayed home. This reminds me of my paraplegic late fiancé's daily routine. Almost every single day the year we had together, Michael would go to one or the other of the huge, air-conditioned, barrier-free malls in Grand Rapids. He saw friends there--from the elderly or disabled who had the same idea as he, to go to this haven of accessibility and spend the day for lack of anything more accessible out there--or those who worked in the particular stores he visited most often, who became like his family. I would be happily with him the whole time. Sometimes if I go back to the mall I look over my shoulders the whole time, half expecting to see his smiling hazel eyes rolling along beside me. There were definitely limits to the things we could experience together, because each of us had our own limitations. Marriage was chief among them. From the minute we both got our benefits, there should have been church bells ringing at the Social Security office, 'cause we'd been married to the State. In our hearts we married each other, but no legal document could ever show that. More limitations. More considerations. If by a miracle I had gotten pregnant with Michael's baby, when it was born I would have had to list my Maiden name and Michael as the child's parents. Or else there would go our livelihood. Thoughts like these are why I contend that grief has no timeline. In addition to all that you've lost, all these memories that have now become your only tether to the past--there are all the "we were gonnas" about a future you had planned. Amazingly, on the street somewhere somebody's playing recorded violin music! The synchronicity of life is just astounding sometimes. And other times you've got to re-order your plans because there might be balloon animals:)