I am walking on the treadmill. Things are going well. My left hand hasn’t decided to fly off the handle yet and my body is pretty relaxed. I’m in a good rhythm which feels great when you have a body that does not always cooperate with your brain. In fact, it rarely cooperates. Good rhythm, good music, feel my heart beat. Dad is enjoying the game while I listen to Glee. After a few minutes, I feel it. My shoe lace comes undone. Dad is all too aware of this as my body stiffens to protect itself. Dad turns the treadmill off and has to go to the side. This makes me nervous because I feel most secure when someone is in back of me. Also, the handle bars on the treadmill position my hands vertically instead of horizontally. I feel more comfortable with horizontal bars because I feel more centered and in control. Dad goes to the side of the treadmill and quickly ties my shoe. My arms are tired from holding on so tight. Dad turns on the treadmill again and I am walking but not with that good rhythm I had three minutes ago. Five minutes later, I’ve reached one tenth of a mile .It is Success for the day. Dad reminds me that he expects me to do it again tomorrow. I already knew that.
My sister Genevieve and I are baking in the kitchen. By baking I mean I watch and she does everything. For twelve years old, she is amazing. I mean, this kid can cook! “Back up, I need to get in the oven” she says! I move. She remarks, “Ugh, I need you to move again”! I move. The third time I need to move Genevieve just grabs my joystick. Her requests are filled with dramatic tones and heavy sighs. To anybody else, this would look like Genevieve is mean when in reality, I enjoy it immensely. The way she treats me is the way that any sisters would treat each other. She calls me out on things most people would be scared to because of my disability. Oftentimes, I think she is the only person who truly treats me like I don’t have a disability. I love my sister for giving me a hard time. It sure keeps me grounded.
David, my brother got his license last week. While this may scare some of you, let me reassure you that he is a good driver. The day after he received his license, he took Genevieve and me to Starbucks which was a kind gesture on his part. After he got in the car, he asked me if we could make the trip longer by going to our high school. I was fine with that. It was only three blocks away and I am the first to understand the pleasure of newfound independence. After we got to the school, David doesn’t turn around. Instead, he decides to go to Baskin Robbins. No. No. No. We barely have Mom and Dad’s trust. Let’s enjoy it! We end up in the Baskin Robbins parking lot. I insist on calling our parents. I hear them say that I had the idea. When did I suggest this? I didn’t get angry, the feeling in the car was too happy. Dad said to go to Starbucks. I’m not surprised. We go to Starbucks and have a great time. Our first driving trip was a success and I can’t wait for the ones to come.
I have referenced this moment in a previous post but my mother knows me so well which I am thankful for. When one of my best friends, Julie was in the hospital, I had a week of stress and sadness. I didn’t know what was causing the incredible emotion. I called my mom crying for essentially no reason. She encouraged me to really think about why I was so emotional. Since I was so sad, I took her advice to heart. If you remember, I ended up going to Desiree and I was able to talk about how sad I was. It is incredible that my mother understands my emotions so well-even over the phone. In that light, she is my best friend.
I have always referred to my family as my rock. They support, love, and guide me through life. I hope I show them that family matters!