The weather radar said no rain. The map showed no rain. I waited until the storm passed and the sun was shining when I left in my electric wheelchair and my camera bag. I brought an umbrella just in case but they sky was clear.
I go out every day to find something good. I thought I’d find raindrops. I drove my chair to the prairie and the road was closed because of flooding. All of the houses had backyards full of water. I turned to come home and it started to pour rain. POUR. My wheelchair wheel started shaking and would not stop. I think it was the wet roads and the fact that I paid $400 for new tires didn’t matter as the front tire was warped (yeah the manufacturer forgets a human will need these). I was only a mile from home. But that is 30 minutes by wheelchair that moves fast. I was inching along and the rain was blowing sideways. I opened my umbrella and realized my arm was too weak to hold it properly. I rested it on my head and tried to hold it while steering my squirrelly shaking chair. I was trying to avoid the dog poop people left in the road from their dogs and swerve around the puddles. Cars flew past me. No one slowed down. I got splashed with oil puddles. I wanted to cry. I really wanted to just start crying right there. My phone wasn’t connecting. I couldn’t call anyone. I was looking for an open garage and they were all closed!!!!!
I tried to cover my camera with a towel and bag but my electronics of my wheelchair were getting wet. I finally made it home and barreled in the front door. No one in the house even knew it was raining outside. Head phones. Fucking headphones.
Do you know what happens with soaking wet wheelchairs with dog shit and oil all over the tires? They have to be driven into the house! So i tried to wipe it off with my half dead arms and then drove it into a room and turned on the dehumidifier to try to dry out all of the electrical components of my camera and chair. I tried to crawl down the hallway to wipe up the oil streaks. But gave up and showered to try and relax the muscles that were burning in my shoulders.
As I was in my wheelchair today I kept thinking about my daughter’s suffering. I kept thinking about my suffering. Then I went through the lives of people that I have gladly been there for. I have rushed to the side of countless people in their time of need. Over and over and over again. I am a virtual dumping ground. I’ve let it happen. I want to help people. I had had a dream last night about my brother living in his facade life with his fancy restaurants and fancy cars. I thought about EVERYBODY in their fancy houses and living their fancy lives with their fancy cars that in the end call on me. Nomatter the time of day or night. I am always there. For everyone.
Yet, I drive 30 minutes in a wheelchair in the pouring rain while people splash me with mud puddles. Then go home and post their selfie showing the life they want everyone to believe they are living but not the real lives that they are crying to me about at 3 am.
There is a power in the truth that those not living it don’t know. It sucked being cold and wet and having my muscles screaming and wanting to scream my self. And that my friends is reality. Sometimes we are all alone in the pouring rain and we aren’t dancing in it because our fucking wheelchair has malfunctioned and we are stuck in a puddle with cars whizzing by!!!!!!
At least I am not living a lie…my truth is hard to hear. People don’t want to hear it. They never have. I can go to my grave knowing that I did EVERYTHING humanly possible for my daughter. I did EVERYTHING humanly possible for people in my life to feel loved and validated. I can go to my grave with no regrets. None.
Stay tuned….my truth will go on. I will never give in to what society wants from us. To have long flowing hair and spinning in dresses while laughing in the sun denying who we really are and want to be. Pretending that child molesters aren’t living next door and that our families are shaking their hands in front of others to save face and sacrifice their daughters.
Today was not a good day. Yesterday was not a good day. But it was real. I will never stop being real for those who cannot live with it. I’d rather be soaking wet with mud and have dog shit on my wheelchair and crawl down my hall all alone than live the life that those are living who have betrayed me. Every fucking day of the week.
I’ll be giving God a high five one day. Up high. Down low. Pretty sure most people who have crossed my path cannot say the same.