I found another question in one of my boxes of conversation starters that struck me and needed an answer
Share any experience you have had with a disabled person
I found another question in one of my boxes of conversation starters that struck me.
Share any experience you have had with a disabled person
Do you have a comfortable pair of slippers, that when you come home from a long day of work and nonsense, you know all is at rest the moment you slip your feet into them? Is there a blanket that you always need when you are ready to curl up with a good book? but, the book isn't the same until you are wrapped deep within your blanket? that it makes the words on the page pop out at you. Is there that special pillow that you must sleep with or you toss and turn because comfort only comes when that pillow is under your head? Are you the kind of person that your friendships in your life feel like home? The moment you speak or are together you know you have arrived home even if you are miles away? I have special friendships like that, they have been my place of Home for many years, The place you pick up where you left off as if you never skipped a beat. The kind of friendship where you don't have to be careful about what you say, or how you talk because they know you, and can always read between the lines of what you are saying. Those are the kind of friendships that take you back home. These are the kind of friendships that you don't see what others see when they look into the window of our home. People see my friend as a woman in a wheelchair, and I see a woman that has been my friend for over thirty-four years. I see now what her husband saw so many years ago, when he asked to marry her without ever recognizing the chair. but was captivated by her eyes and a heart that was so pure, even when she had gone through so much. He told me she glowed, and I can attest that she does.
Terri-Lynn and I met over thirty-four years ago. I was a young homeschooling mom, looking for women that could help me, as I was a ripe old age of twenty-four with four young daughters. We met at a homeschooling coop. A gathering place of women that were determined to teach our children at home. I needed encouragement and guidance as I was a tenth grade drop out with a GED and a dream from God to homeschool my children. Terri-Lynn and I hit it off. I don't think we ever thought on that first night continuing our conservation at her home until 2am in the morning would lead to a thirty-four-year friendship. A friendship that I never saw in the chair.
See, my friend has been in a wheelchair since she was nine years old. Where she had lost her mother and siblings in a car accident on a rainy night. She would wake up in the hospital, where she would learn that she was the only one that survived. She would survive but, no chance of ever walking again. I can't even imagine the shock and the unknown that was going through her head. She would spend time with family members only to be moved around again. They saw her wheelchair and couldn't get beyond that. Until she met a couple from New Hampshire that took her under their wing, while Terri-Lynn lived in a group home. They didn't see her chair, they saw what we all have seen over and over again. Her heart, that helped her conquer the pain of loss. They saw her smile and her eyes that spoke to your heart when you looked into them. They saw a girl that needed love with or without the chair. They saw her and stepped up.
We have walked so much life together. We have experienced the good, the bad, and the ugly in life. We have stuck by each other. Even when I stopped talking to her for a few months in our younger years of friendship. I came back knowing we had something special like long lost sisters. Our children were friends; we homeschooled our children together and spent hours and hours on scrapbooking. We talked daily about what we were making for dinner and what we were going to teach our daughters for that day. We laughed a lot when visiting each other's houses for dinner and get togethers. We would go on trips with each other as our husband got along too. I have played jokes on her because I never saw the chair, I treated her like anyone else. She has been my friend and a comfort when life got so hard that we learned to lean on each other and hung on for dear life.
When you have had a friendship that spans three decades, you will experience things together that take your breath away and your will to live. There have been times in our friendship that we were each other's sounding board. We had been each other's ear in times of complete pain that to get up in the morning was a chore, and we both would understand. Terri-Lynn walked through divorces with me and dating seasons that turned out to be flops. She was there when I had a pressure canner blow up on me and watched one of my children while I was in the burn unit. She has been my understanding friend while I began to heal from rejection I experienced within the four walls of the church. We would talk for hours about our children and find ways to survive this stage in our lives. We were sounding boards in each other's life when we experienced death in our families. My dear friend lost her second born daughter seventeen years ago. The death of a child is unbearable to comprehend. There were no words to console her, as the pain took a part of her that never seemed to come back. She was there for me when I lost my grandson hours after he was born. She understood my pain and didn't try to take it away from me. but I listened as my heart broke in a thousand pieces. The toughest loss that we walked together was the death of her baby girl that just got her GED, she died this past October. How could a mother bear another loss? The loss of dreams again. The loss of another child that she won't see live out her dreams but an empty heart again. A hole that wouldn't be filled. I have had to watch my friend breakdown, and I had no words but to be there for her. To drive the fifteen hours to stay with her as the shock kept her in motion but not moving. Friendship doesn't pick up the pieces but holds them while your friend is figuring out how to put everything back together again. Friendship becomes that blanket that keeps you safe and warm from the outside world.
When people ask me questions about the wheelchair, I say I don't notice, and I really don't. I asked my children once if they ever noticed and their response was " no" every time. It's not about the chair or someone's disability. It's about the offer of a hand when they have nothing to give but the sparkle in their eyes and the heart of a giant. Thirty-four years of building a friendship with someone who has always known how to give in spite of the chair. Ask her husband of over forty years of marriage. When he says,” I never saw the chair.” The first thing I saw was her eyes and I was mesmerized, and I had to make her my wife. I am thankful to know a person like Terri-Lynn. I am even more blessed to call her my friend, Chair? What chair?
