Note: When I started writing this I thought it would be a personal history, however, it became a reflection piece on having hemeparesis. If you want to see the first post in the series, Click here.
It was a cold fall morning, a rarity for Dallas. My parents and I crossing the street as fast as we could, as fast as a five-year old could to the Scottish Rite Hospital for Children.
I hadn’t been to a hospital in several years so the fear was obvious on my face. We walked into the biggest waiting room I’d ever been in and I remember I looked up at the high vaulted ceiling and saw a contraption that I couldn’t believe existed.There was a fully suspended model blimp hovering over us. It had an open frame with multiple gears spinning inside it and two cowboys piloting a tandem bicycle that functioned as the cockpit. The propellers made of tennis rackets, weather veins, and spoons. It moved with controlled turbulence. In all the commotion, it never sank or looked like it was going to stop. Now, I understand that it was held by wires but back then I thought to myself, “Is it flying or is it floating?”
I could say that it was flying. It had moving parts and propellers that moved together to make it fly. Every gear rotated as it should. Every piece moved in the same direction. The machine dazzled anyone who stopped and looked at it. It was as if the blimp was actually flying and the spectators were seeing a live airshow. There are moments I felt like I could fly, the moments that everyone seemed to stop and look: When I got a 5th place ribbon at my first grade field day (I’m not very athletic so that’s good enough for me); When I help my friends and neighbors; When I graduated from high school and college. In moments like these, the disability fades into the background and I’m not caricatured by the disability.
I don’t dwell on my disability every day but there are times I know my have a damaged body: When I need to carry a big box or heavy tray, turn a doorknob with my left hand. These are the times that I float and I follow the airship. The blimp ran without as it should, It stays on its course and fulfills its role without worrying about how successful the model is.
One of My favorite poems is by John Milton, author of Paradise Lost. Milton had poor eyesight and towards the end of his life, He went blind. He worried that his blindness would stop him from writing.
“God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.”