Retrospective Lily

As I rolled down the street, a light breeze tussled my hair. Sunshine bathed every inch of my bare skin. I breathed in deeply, fresh air filling my nostrils and travelling down to my lungs. Moments later, I exhaled slowly, my mouth slightly open as I murmured, “Ahh.”

Approaching the shade of a big oak tree, I stopped to enjoy a brief reprieve from the heat. I looked at the grass, the trees, and the flowers, noticing different colors and textures. I listened to the chirping birds, whose various cries overlapped to create a natural symphony.

I felt the smooth, rubber joystick between my fingers. And a thought crossed my mind: Thank God for electric wheelchairs.

~

George Klein invented the first electric wheelchair in the 1950’s. It was intended for use by WWII veterans with debilitating injuries.

I came into the world in 1993, about 40 years later.

My disability is called Friedreich’s Ataxia. I have been a wheelchair user for ten years. I currently use both manual and electric, depending on the situation; however, my electric wheelchair grants me more autonomy.

Just three years prior to my birth, the U.S. government passed the Americans With Disabilities Act (1990). The ADA mandates that new buildings meet certain accessibility standards, such as having a handicap stall in the restroom.

Just three years after my birth, Pride Mobility introduced their first Jazzy power wheelchair to the world (1996). There have been several iterations over the years. While other companies produce electric wheelchairs, Jazzy is the top dog, the OG, the gold standard, the brand you see most frequently.

For a person with a disability who preceded me by one or more generations, the world was a different place…

More exclusionary, more confining.

Less empowering, less freeing.

~

Getting around with a disability is still difficult. For instance, many businesses are “grandfathered in,” so they use this loophole to justify their lack of accessibility. Obtaining necessary equipment and accommodations is prohibitively complex if you seek financial help, or prohibitively expensive if not. The list goes on.

However, I genuinely feel privileged to live in the twenty-first century.

I’m living life to the fullest not just for myself…but for all the disabled people before me who never got the opportunity.

The world sees my wheelchair as a symbol of everything I cannot do. I see my wheelchair as a tool that enables me to more fully participate in the world.

~

I love visiting accessible trails. You can’t put a price on the value of communing with nature… so isn’t it ironic that, as life gets more expensive every year, going to a park is still free?

A thought for you to leave with – while a nature stroll won’t fix all your problems, has anyone ever felt worse about their circumstances after a nature stroll?!