I wanted to make the trip for a long time, and this year I could, so I did. The question in my mind, when my dad knows I don’t follow directions anyway, is this: Why did he try to keep me from going and doing what I find fun? Was it because I am a woman, or is it because I am disabled and in his eyes, “fragile.”
So often people act surprised that I do the things I do. Why do I do things for fun that are a bit hard? Why would I fly across the country in a wheelchair without a companion to assist me? Why would I drive across Canada with my walker by myself? Why would I painfully climb a lighthouse?
The answer: Because they are there, I want to see, and every time I succeed I am a little stronger, a little less disabled.
I am a person who wants to see everything. I just saw the Canadian Rockies, Niagara Falls and the coast of Maine. All have been things I have wanted to see all my life. I have been to so many places such as Lexington and Concord, Leadville in Colorado and Eisenhower’s boyhood home in Kansas, but there is always something more to see or do.
Being disabled has made it harder to do many of the things I enjoy. People are shocked that I am out without a keeper. But my mind works, even when my body doesn’t, and if all else fails there is someone around who makes it their business to make sure I get where I am going. I have had many delightful experiences and met many wonderful people in my life because I didn’t stay home like a good girl.
People are good. I was in my wheelchair waiting for the elevator in the Boston area when my leg went painfully into spasm. I said something I shouldn’t just as the elevator doors opened and two ladies stood there, stunned. I apologized and explained my situation to the ladies and started wheeling myself back to my room.
The ladies immediately made sure I got back to my room, on my bed and took my medicine. It was an unusual way to meet two such lovely ladies.
Another time I took a tour with a family group and heard a person on the phone say, “Virginia went and she did everything. Upstairs and everywhere. I didn’t know she could do it.”
I did accept an arm coming down the stairs and could be seen leaning where I could without damaging surfaces.
The point is that we don’t know what we can do if we don’t try. If something sounds like fun, try it. If it turns out to have been a mistake, either modify it or don’t do it again. If you had fun, good. Either way, try something else new.
For those without disabilities, please do not tell us what we can’t do. We get that so very much. I know many things I can’t do. I can’t stand in line without collapsing. I can’t dance anymore. I can’t climb mountains. But I can sit in line. I can chair dance. I can drive into the mountains.
Life is for the living, so live. Enjoy your life; no one else can do it for you. And remember, I will not give up living just because my back doesn’t work well.
Virginia Towne is a retired computer programmer from the University of Washington with experience in her own life with disabilities. A member of The Olympian’s Diversity Panel, she can be reached at townevi@gmail.com.
