Wednesday, February 15, 2012

If Only

A few months ago, I was driving to counseling.

Out of the corner of my eye,

You appeared.

I was in wait at a red light.

This busy intersection allowed me ample time to take you in.

You were visibly disabled.

I watched intently.

You cruised along freely in your power wheelchair.

You had a dog by your side.

Many of your belongings were attached.

I wondered the contents of your backpack.

What types of things would you pack for the day?

Quite suddenly,

An unstoppable amount of tears streamed down my face.

I watched you.

You may never know,

But as you made your way across the street,

I was dissecting your every move.

Examining your hand,

And fingers,

As you carefully navigated your chair.

Admiring you,

As you gazed up at the trees.

I continued to watch.

I was in awe, as your seriously disabled body made its way through this busy world.

The light turned green and slowly,

While finding it hard to peel my eyes from you,

I drove away.

I could no longer control my tears.

I proceeded to counseling,

But wouldn't you know it?

On my way home...

There you were again,

With your beautiful black lab.

Your love, I'm sure.

You were just now arriving at the mall.

The tears were hot, rolling down my face.

I tilted my head, as you administered the slightest nod.

To my great surprise,

And just like a perfectly synchronized dance,

Your trusted companion pushed the crosswalk button with his nose.

At this very moment,

The dam broke and what was released made it very difficult to see.

Through tears I smiled.

In all ~ I thought,

If only, Aviana could someday accomplish that sort of independence.

If only ~ one day ~ she could decide she wanted to go to the mall,

If only ~ one day ~ she could carry it out, on her own.

If only ~ one day ~ she could grab her best girl and go for the day.

If only ~ one day ~ she could pack her bag with all of her favorite things.

If only ~ one day ~ she could cruise freely down the street,

Admiring the passing by trees,

With the sun lightly kissing those puffy cheeks of hers,

And the breeze swaying through her long, dark hair.

If only.

If only she could be so abled.

As I was driving away,

I took one last look.

I smiled and thought...

Disabled?

I think not!

5 comments:

  1. BEAUTIFUL!!!!

    my beautiful cousin kelsey has spent 20 of her 23 years in a wheelchair....it's HER freedom. it's her ability to do and be who she can be.

    if it is meant to be....it will.

    this lovely person was there to show you the way...to give you a glimpse of the possiblities that are behind the door....for one day.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh Jen...you have me in tears with this one. So beautifully and eloquently said. THIS is one reason I do the job I do. At work I manage to handle these situations, but in my 'real' life, all too often I stare, I wonder, I admire those living with disABILITIES who are so amazing. I think of you all and Aviana so much =)

    ReplyDelete
  3. I bet when this person's life changed they never imagined they would have this type of freedom. I pray Aviana will not only have this freedom but much more.
    It touched my heart reading this.Beautiful!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I find myself watching adults in wheelchairs, with walkers, etc., and staring. I want to know their story. I want THEM to tell me, "she'll be okay." I hate that they probably think I'm staring at them because of their differences, because of what they can't do, when its really quite the opposite. They are inspiring me in a way no one else can.

    ReplyDelete
  5. This is beautifully written. Focus on her strengths and on all the things she does well. I'm sure there are many.

    ReplyDelete