So, I’ve watched this girl grow up before my eyes, literally, from a shy, painfully quiet waif to a still somewhat shy, but louder young woman. I’ve watched her dead lift an electric wheelchair stuck on the edge of a ramp to free it, get back in said chair, and go on her way. We’re talking a 350+ with her on her knees lifting the chair by its push handles.
I’ve witnessed her climb out of bed to tend to the hacking fur baby we thought was choking when he had kennel cough. Everyday, after the girls leave we’re on our own, and she gets out of her chair at least once, sometimes more times to go to the restroom…a procedure that requires two lifts from the floor…each time. I’ve seen the cuts, the bruises, the sprains, the fractured nose.
I’ve seen her move TVs 2x bigger than her, weighing more than her from the floor. And, stairs, what stairs, I’ve watched her scale stairs at my aunt’s pad for fun…just because she wanted to. Most people gripe about the stuff she does. She does it because it’s her life, and there isn’t always people to help. She does it, because, at one time she was told she can’t.
Be good to each other.