...to suffer the fear of the unknown has been the greatest things that has attributed to my life's success in terms of my health. When fear first took hold of me, i felt trapped, confused and like a weakling vulnerable to the vortex of mystery: strange and odd that made every positive thought that i tried to conjure up in my mind defenseless. Still on a few occasions, fear seems to take hold of me and at such times, i am just left exposed to the crumbling earth around me...
As i walk to the window of my nursery room, i am always taken aback by the brilliant colours of bougainvillea flowers that emblazons the scenery. Life seems so serene and at peace with me, as if diffusing an aura of love into my nostrils. The flowers smell sweet and fresh! I always glance at the abnormally shaped roses by my window, growing in bloom regardless of their numerous broken stems or their sun baked roots. Yes! they give me reassurance for hope that even the tiniest of all miracles are often taken for granted or rather occur unnoticed.
To be able to accept that i could not walk ever since i was born was the most devastating backslide in my life. It took away every part of me, the feeling of happiness and left me hollow and pained. The mere thought of not walking, not taking my first step, more or less getting out of bed each morning tormented my mind. Born with paralysed legs, it simply made my life not worth the reason to live for. The fear of even learning to try and walk gripped the inner strongholds of my soul, pulling me down at every attempt i made,....well up until my 86th birthday.
Like any other frail and weak paralysed woman, i had to live under the care of a nursery home, crucified in a wheelchair. I felt lonely and life seemed gloomy. It was as if i was lost away, far in a primitive and desolate place that not even a human soul could deem existent. However the nursery home comforted me. There i managed to succumb to the feathers of warmth, love and care with a few of my counterparts who also had similar disabilities or simply too old and awaiting death to finally take its toll on their flesh. It was in this remote and lonesome place that my miracle took place.
At times, i would get visits from pre-school children who would spend the day up and about, running into every corner of my room. Then i would have the yearning to run to them and cuddle them into my arms and to thank them for their concern. Disability would only conquer my sheer determination and desire by locking me up in the exile of my wheelchair...
The nights were terrible and unbearable and often i couldn't sleep, thanks to my forever tormenting nightmares but i dared never to tell a living soul. It was then that i decided to take refuge in making a friend ; Chandler! With him i would spend the day and reconnect with the feelings i encountered in trying to accept my disability. Accepting that i could not walk was difficult to take in so much that loneliness took another part of me when Chandler was not around. Then, darkness would slowly creep back into my room and fear would crawl into my mind. It was the pictures that he drew of us standing together and holding hands that made me hopeful that it would someday become reality for me to walk with him.
It took the interest of the little boy to come and see me and spend time with me that we grew a bond and he managed to get me to listen to his proposal, above all his ideas about how he pictured us playing together in the park. Chandler always drew pictures of the two of us walking to his school, home and on our way to church with his parents. He believed that i was strong, a very strong ox ; old but fit and that i could try and walk someday, irrespective of my old age, so he proposed that i take up walking lessons...
At first i do have to admit that the thought of taking up walking lessons sounded totally absurd. At eighty-five i had lost hope of ever walking and the slightest idea of a nine year old boy changing the situation,..such a disastrous phenomenon looked bleak, simply impossible.
However Chandler patiently addressed my grunts about how difficult it was for me embracing a disability and trying to work at it, so much that his willpower at learning a step at a time always overpowered me. Or maybe it is rather the fact that one may never be able to face and withstand the wrath of a nine year old boy, so i accepted his proposal, took my time and listened.....
I tried out first with simple balancing techniques at how to merely stand. It was strange and difficult since i could not feel my feet but Chandler kept me going with his frequent massage and foot rub. I quickly tired out, thanks to my old age and every body cell on me hurt. At times like these silent meditations to abscond from another session would help me as i would skip a day off when Chandler didn't make it to come and see me but then the pain only worsened!!
I was exposed to a series of unending exercises, somehow unjustifiable for an eighty-five year old woman. There i learnt how to co-ordinate my muscles and try a simple step. My legs were like logs, heavy with dead weight and my body often buckled under the pressure. It was as if they were dead of course when yet the rest of my body just didn't know then. In these moments, fear would take hold of me so hard that i would lose hope at ever walking. I could hardly gather the strength to raise my legs and on noticing how fretful and uneasy i was, Chandler brought me a walking stand. It seemed unbearable for an old woman but Chandler always compared me to the roses on my window sill, growing in bloom in such horrid conditions. To Chandler, life was all about holding on and about being hopeful in life. Tears often filled ma eyes at the sight of Chandlers excitement whenever he was around to help me with the walking lessons. It touched me deeply when he would hug me with such warmth and conviction that everything was going to work out for the best and in tears too i soldiered on.
It was on the day of my birthday that Chandler came up to me holding my present. on opening it i noticed that he had brought a pair of shoes with beautiful embroidered laces and a nice flat heel. The look in his eyes made me realise that he wanted me to wear them. I tried to stammer or mumble a few words of protest but he quickly hushed me and took my hands into his. ...
"I had a dream. In this dream we were walking and struggling against a storm that was raging in our direction. Irrespective of the strong winds we managed to get to the other side. When we got to the other side we noticed that the roses had grown and were now in bloom. I really think that this is a sign. I believe that we can overcome this fear and you can walk to the window to see the roses..", Chandler spoke with much courage and enthusiasm. ...
It was all about being hopeful in life, wasn't it! Learning to hope and believing that there is no such thing as the sky being the limit and that it is only us as human beings that tend to limit ourselves.. With the look in Chandler's eyes, he took ma hand and helped me up. I took a deep breath and the world seemed to stop moving. Darkness fell upon me and fear gripped me. Chandler held his grip tighter reminding me that it was time to face the catastrophic odds and ends. In sheer determination , i took a few sways, in a small unsteady but significant step. On realisation that i had taken my first step ever, Chandler hugged ma in tears and together we wept bitterly.
......today i can walk a few paces; seven at most. I am still far from the window sill but each day is a beginning to a new life where only those who learn to hope walk the path of success. I believe that even as the roses by my window grow in bloom under such horrid conditions then surely a young boy can bring a miracle to the oldest of women..Thanks to Chandler i have realised the joys of learning to hope as each progressive step brings new meaning into my life.......
As i walk to the window of my nursery room, i am always taken aback by the brilliant colours of bougainvillea flowers that emblazons the scenery. Life seems so serene and at peace with me, as if diffusing an aura of love into my nostrils. The flowers smell sweet and fresh! I always glance at the abnormally shaped roses by my window, growing in bloom regardless of their numerous broken stems or their sun baked roots. Yes! they give me reassurance for hope that even the tiniest of all miracles are often taken for granted or rather occur unnoticed.
To be able to accept that i could not walk ever since i was born was the most devastating backslide in my life. It took away every part of me, the feeling of happiness and left me hollow and pained. The mere thought of not walking, not taking my first step, more or less getting out of bed each morning tormented my mind. Born with paralysed legs, it simply made my life not worth the reason to live for. The fear of even learning to try and walk gripped the inner strongholds of my soul, pulling me down at every attempt i made,....well up until my 86th birthday.
Like any other frail and weak paralysed woman, i had to live under the care of a nursery home, crucified in a wheelchair. I felt lonely and life seemed gloomy. It was as if i was lost away, far in a primitive and desolate place that not even a human soul could deem existent. However the nursery home comforted me. There i managed to succumb to the feathers of warmth, love and care with a few of my counterparts who also had similar disabilities or simply too old and awaiting death to finally take its toll on their flesh. It was in this remote and lonesome place that my miracle took place.
At times, i would get visits from pre-school children who would spend the day up and about, running into every corner of my room. Then i would have the yearning to run to them and cuddle them into my arms and to thank them for their concern. Disability would only conquer my sheer determination and desire by locking me up in the exile of my wheelchair...
The nights were terrible and unbearable and often i couldn't sleep, thanks to my forever tormenting nightmares but i dared never to tell a living soul. It was then that i decided to take refuge in making a friend ; Chandler! With him i would spend the day and reconnect with the feelings i encountered in trying to accept my disability. Accepting that i could not walk was difficult to take in so much that loneliness took another part of me when Chandler was not around. Then, darkness would slowly creep back into my room and fear would crawl into my mind. It was the pictures that he drew of us standing together and holding hands that made me hopeful that it would someday become reality for me to walk with him.
It took the interest of the little boy to come and see me and spend time with me that we grew a bond and he managed to get me to listen to his proposal, above all his ideas about how he pictured us playing together in the park. Chandler always drew pictures of the two of us walking to his school, home and on our way to church with his parents. He believed that i was strong, a very strong ox ; old but fit and that i could try and walk someday, irrespective of my old age, so he proposed that i take up walking lessons...
At first i do have to admit that the thought of taking up walking lessons sounded totally absurd. At eighty-five i had lost hope of ever walking and the slightest idea of a nine year old boy changing the situation,..such a disastrous phenomenon looked bleak, simply impossible.
However Chandler patiently addressed my grunts about how difficult it was for me embracing a disability and trying to work at it, so much that his willpower at learning a step at a time always overpowered me. Or maybe it is rather the fact that one may never be able to face and withstand the wrath of a nine year old boy, so i accepted his proposal, took my time and listened.....
I tried out first with simple balancing techniques at how to merely stand. It was strange and difficult since i could not feel my feet but Chandler kept me going with his frequent massage and foot rub. I quickly tired out, thanks to my old age and every body cell on me hurt. At times like these silent meditations to abscond from another session would help me as i would skip a day off when Chandler didn't make it to come and see me but then the pain only worsened!!
I was exposed to a series of unending exercises, somehow unjustifiable for an eighty-five year old woman. There i learnt how to co-ordinate my muscles and try a simple step. My legs were like logs, heavy with dead weight and my body often buckled under the pressure. It was as if they were dead of course when yet the rest of my body just didn't know then. In these moments, fear would take hold of me so hard that i would lose hope at ever walking. I could hardly gather the strength to raise my legs and on noticing how fretful and uneasy i was, Chandler brought me a walking stand. It seemed unbearable for an old woman but Chandler always compared me to the roses on my window sill, growing in bloom in such horrid conditions. To Chandler, life was all about holding on and about being hopeful in life. Tears often filled ma eyes at the sight of Chandlers excitement whenever he was around to help me with the walking lessons. It touched me deeply when he would hug me with such warmth and conviction that everything was going to work out for the best and in tears too i soldiered on.
It was on the day of my birthday that Chandler came up to me holding my present. on opening it i noticed that he had brought a pair of shoes with beautiful embroidered laces and a nice flat heel. The look in his eyes made me realise that he wanted me to wear them. I tried to stammer or mumble a few words of protest but he quickly hushed me and took my hands into his. ...
"I had a dream. In this dream we were walking and struggling against a storm that was raging in our direction. Irrespective of the strong winds we managed to get to the other side. When we got to the other side we noticed that the roses had grown and were now in bloom. I really think that this is a sign. I believe that we can overcome this fear and you can walk to the window to see the roses..", Chandler spoke with much courage and enthusiasm. ...
It was all about being hopeful in life, wasn't it! Learning to hope and believing that there is no such thing as the sky being the limit and that it is only us as human beings that tend to limit ourselves.. With the look in Chandler's eyes, he took ma hand and helped me up. I took a deep breath and the world seemed to stop moving. Darkness fell upon me and fear gripped me. Chandler held his grip tighter reminding me that it was time to face the catastrophic odds and ends. In sheer determination , i took a few sways, in a small unsteady but significant step. On realisation that i had taken my first step ever, Chandler hugged ma in tears and together we wept bitterly.
......today i can walk a few paces; seven at most. I am still far from the window sill but each day is a beginning to a new life where only those who learn to hope walk the path of success. I believe that even as the roses by my window grow in bloom under such horrid conditions then surely a young boy can bring a miracle to the oldest of women..Thanks to Chandler i have realised the joys of learning to hope as each progressive step brings new meaning into my life.......
Sweetheart do u realise u right quite a lot?
ReplyDeleteI've saved ths so I'll read it wn I'm not sleepy.
Its a nice blog u've set up here.
Urs truly,