Things happen because they happen.
Sometimes I, when I’m feeling that life isn’t going my way, want to imagine that I have one of those dark clouds over my head that follow me around, but I know that’s not how it works for me. Things happen because they happen.
We’d finished a day’s work and were heading over to the post office when we heard a loud, really loud, POP. Well Joe thought it was more of a BANG, but I’m writing the story.
So we heard this POP and couldn’t figure out where it had come from.
Joe got out of the car to check to see if the small passageway built for wheelchair exit and entry to the parking lot was wide enough for my chair. But before he could do that his face went dark. He got back in the car.
“That sound, the BANG,” he said, guess what it was.” I said that it was some kind of POP and I had no idea. “Our front tire blew up, he said.
We we had to call the rental company and the roadside assistance and we were lucky we got them just as they were closing.
They started with offering a tow truck.
I reminded them that I was in a wheelchair and no way I could get into a tow truck and I know that tow trucks don’t tow cars with people in them.
So several other options were explored. Too which I said, to each one, that I was a wheelchair user and we needed an accessible solution not a typical solution.
Finally the guy said he’d be over in 5 minutes.
Joe suggested I go into the store and get the mailing done.
I think he wanted me out of the way so that he could deal with the situation without me being there and being difficult.
I know I have that tendency but I also know I need that tendency. I agreed only because knew that Joe knew the seriousness of the situation.
He would fight the battle for me.
I got into the store down to the post office, and took my place in a very long line.
I kept thinking about the situation as I edged towards the front of the line.
Joe arrived just as I pulled up to the desk and started handing over stuff to be mailed.
He filled me in on what had happened. We had a new car and he was sure that the new car would work for us and our needs.
It’s only one more day.
Once back at the car, it was fine. A little more difficult to get into for me, but it was still doable and would work fine.
I relaxed into the seat as Joe popped back in to the store because he’d forgotten something.
I think that’s the first time I’ve retreated from a situation and let Joe take it over on his own.
Over all of our life, I’ve been the designated difficult one … it felt good to know that Joe could handle it on his own
and that he knew what was needed and he would ensure that we got something that worked.
Disability has changed both of us, and luckily for each of us, in interesting ways.