Feb 01 2009
Imagination
For most of my life, I have not realized I am handicapped. Actually, the only times I realize it is when people point it out to me. The fact that I’ve always been the only one in any of my classes that was in a wheelchair never seemed weird to me. Until a couple years ago, I didn’t consider that I’m a minority, that I’ve lived this life that is completely different from the average person.
When everyone is asked to stand in an audience, my mind tells my legs to “stand,” and my hand goes instantly to my controls. I move forward, but the funny thing is I don’t seem to get taller. When I race at top speed down a hill, I reach the bottom and I’m out of breath. Why? I have no idea. I haven’t done anything that would make me breathless and exhausted. Except that I have a brilliant imagination. I don’t say that to brag or consider myself better than others, I just know it’s my only explanation. Jesus is my reason for living, and he gave me an imagination so I don’t fall into despair or self-pity.
My little brother, Kevan also has SMA, and growing up he was my best playmate. We made everything an adventure - the backyard was a baseball diamond, the deck was a barn, the woods were secret headquarters, the driveway was an ice rink, and ditches were time portals. Our wheelchairs were never just wheelchairs; they were horses, roller skates, skateboards, motorcycles, and sports cars. We could play imaginary basketball games and hockey games, and it was so real to us that we never argued over scores - we saw the same things.
Secure in my imagination, I walked the halls in high school just like everyone else… and conveniently never had to go to gym class. I never tried out for sports because I didn’t really like sports - never crossed my mind that I couldn’t do it. I was in choral ensemble, and whenever our teacher choreographed songs, I matched the movement and rhythm in my chair, all the while imagining my legs and feet obeying my will - I am a fantastic dancer in my own mind! In the mornings, sometimes I let my imagination get me up and do exercises and stretches and make my own cup of tea and go for a jog with the dog, while my actual body lays in bed waiting for mom to get me up.
And it’s an awesome feeling when I can get other people to come into this world with me! A few times, I’ve had people drive my car and park in a regular spot in between two cars, and then say, “Oh! Sorry, I forgot you’re in a wheelchair!” I love that. And for those of you who feel bad because you didn’t think about all the steps into your house being a problem, that’s ok! I don’t mind, really. Because that shows me that you’re playing my game too, and you can see me without my handicap. You can see me for who I really am.
