Loud clanging metal
An unholy tympany
Garbage truck at work
Passages
Summertime six years ago
I settled in this space
Unpacked and put my memories
On walls and table tops
In places I found evidence
Of occupant who came before
Tiny holes in closet door
Suggest a place to hang his ties
Apartment life is transitory
I put roots down none the less
Created my new home.
These past six years began a tale
Chapters of unexpected change
So many things I used to do
No longer are within my reach
My apartment is the same
It is I who have a different view
I will re-member cherished gifts
Grieve and lay them to the side
Look out the window at the tree
Watch pink clouds at early dawn
Embrace anew life’s mystery.
The Art of Wheelchairing
Finally in 2015 I gave in and ordered a wheelchair for a trip to Mexico to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family. I considered it would be useful getting me through Customs. That was the beginning of my shaping a new world view from the sitting-point of a wheelchair.
The first leg of my flight took me to Chicago. But Chicago was having “weather” and I never got there. Instead I spent the day in the Cleveland airport parked in my wheelchair near other wheelchair occupants. My first lesson was that not only elder folk use them. A youngish woman who had injured her leg in a motorcycle accident sat beside me. When she wanted to buy food she loaded her carry-on bag in the chair and pushed off. At lunch time I followed suit feeling only a little self-conscious. My new journey began. Not only is a wheelchair good as a conveyance for carrying luggage and making small trips to find food, but also it is quite comfortable. The arms and foot rests are a cut above the usual seating in the gate area. I discovered the wheelchairs in the Houston airport, where I ended up after Chicago closed down, even have cup holders.
Last weekend I flew to Minneapolis to visit my son and his family. There were delays going and coming back home that left me to settle into my compact wheelchair world. I noticed in the concourse that people were using wheelchairs to push large luggage and small children. Wheels have always been a radical part of moving civilization forward. When I pushed my wheelchair to the Women’s restroom I was having trouble getting my chair into a stall that had a Handicap sign on it but had room only for a person. A kind young mother accompanied by her child in a stroller tried to help me. I confessed that I was not very good at navigating. She replied that I was doing great and she could never do as well. I thought to myself that she had already learned the basic lessons from pushing her children around and just didn’t realize it.