Realer Things

Weather Channel.com is saying mold spores and tree pollen--the two WORST allergens as far as I'm concerned--are extremely high outside. And I can see there's a healthy stirring the trees behind my building. But I can't "cancel today." Unlike other days, when I have the distinct luxury of choosing to stay in if I want--tonight I have things I want to do. Life is what you make it, after all, a fact I learned from Michael, who despite his paraplegia made the most of every day. He was rolling his wheelchair from before dawn 'til after dusk. I never appreciated it then, living with him in a government subsidized two bedroom apartment, but I definitely do now. He never complained about anything he had to deal with--and ladies and gentleman, he dealt with a lot. Nor did he let anything he dealt with stop him from doing whatever he wanted to do. I was so proud of him. Proud to be with him. He made me feel important just because I stood beside him. How does a person do that? How does some one radiate so much quiet confidence it makes those AROUND him more confident? I'm still trying to decipher that mystery! And I do feel incredibly fortunate to have at least experienced it once in my life. So many times in the day to day arduousness of life, a disabled person (particularly a woman) can feel overlooked, underappreciated, uncared about--like they just should have stayed inside. Rather than confront a world that doesn't see them and doesn't want to see them. I've often thought to myself that the world thinks of us as "better NOT seen and NOT heard." Especially in the winter, when the sidewalks and/or driveways are not shoveled or slick with ice. If I hadn't been using a walker I'd have done "face plants" all over this town from late November to March. Summer carries its own challenges! This time of year, it's discarded bikes on the sidewalk, dogs on leashes allowed to roam to the opposite side of the sidewalk so owner and dog block the path of a mobility device. With my walker I'd surely have been "ham-stringed" by a dog leash. Or it's little kids in their summer clothes running ahead of their parents, directly in the path of the walker. They're only told the error of their ways at the last minute, usually after I've had to say something like "excuse me honey" in my sweetest voice, and win the ensuing staring contest:( Don't parents know to tell their children it's impolite to stare? When did this not become a concern? Once again I think "better NOT seen and NOT heard." Well, I flat-out refuse. I'm not going to lower myself to make others more comfortable with my presence. They're going to have to get used to it. I've made my life pretty wonderful, and truly learned to love myself--for the first time--at nearly 40. People on the street or stores who carelessly disregard my feelings or imagine I'm somehow not like them have no idea what it's taken for me to get this far. Years ago at a doctor's appointment, my Primary Care Physician and I were discussing the physical challenges I've had to deal with. The effects of being born with Hydrocephalus and Cerebral Palsy were just the "big ones." She assured me, "normal things will happen to you to." Until almost that moment, I'd always thought my diseases defined me. That everything that I encountered in my body harkened back to those two ailments in one way or another. Her comment started me on the path to discovering who I REALLY was, physically, beyond the things that made me unique. Gradually this became a reconnection with what I loved--beauty, art, romance, love--and hence the event tonight, which I'm going to boldly go to despite the allergens! Because believe it or not, the heart within a disabled body is the same as yours. "Normal things WILL happen to me too."