Posts Tagged ‘Memetastic blog award’

Freedom on wheels

magic is in the movement

The story I wrote about my having been confined to a wheelchair at age three was mostly true.  In this post, I’m going to tell you the whole truth and a little bit more.

I was supposed to tell 4 bold-face lies as part of this writing project, but I told more truth than lies.

Below is a copy of my story.   I underlined the parts that are NOT true.   The whole truth is in blue.

I was confined to a wheelchair, as a result of a childhood bone disease when I was a toddler.  The doctors told my mother I might never walk again.  I hated that chair! My brother, who is ten years older than me, used to take me and my little chair on wheels to the top of our steep road, which was deep in the mountains.  My two older sisters would stand at the top of the road, holding my chair, with me in it of course, until my brother made it to the bottom.  He would count to some number, which was their clue to let me go.  I would fly down that mountain in my little chair!  It was great fun!  The best I can remember, my brother always caught me.  My mother didn’t mind this game. I wasn’t happy the day I put my foot on the floor and was able to walk again because I had to give up my little flying chair.

The truth:

“A little doll’s chair,” is what my mother says the wheelchair looked like.  “It was just so small.   It didn’t look like it was for a person.”

I had Kohler disease, which is a rare childhood bone disease.  It attacked my ankle bone when I was three years old.  The doctors did tell my mother I may never walk again, but they also told her that it could go away as mysteriously as it had appeared.

I didn’t hate the wheelchair.  I’m pretty sure I loved it.  My mother says that I had crawled around for several weeks before she, “put her foot down,” and demanded that I be taken to the nearest hospital for x-rays.

Putting weight on my foot was intolerable.  The little chair gave me freedom to go outside and play.  At three years old, I guess you live in the moment.  I was too young to understand what never being able to walk again meant.   I was also too young to know the danger of flying down that road, but then sometimes, our memories play tricks on us.

About ten years ago, my mother and I visited the place we lived when I was in that wheelchair.  There was a housing complex with relatively small one story dwellings that was turned into offices for the Juvenile boys home.  My dad worked there and we had lived in the complex, which was for the employees and their families.

Mother and I were both a bit shocked.  The metal fence surrounding the property surprised her.  It was one of those tall fences with thick rolls of barbed-wire on top.  The place hadn’t been fenced in when we lived there.

I remembered the houses being massive with tall and wide dark windows.

“There’s our house,” Mother said.  There weren’t any big houses and the windows were those small rectangular ones you see in beach houses.

I remembered front porch being high up off the ground.  I sat on the steps every day, weather permitting, with my three year-old boyfriend, talking and waiting for the school bus to drop off my older siblings.  I remember being happy when he was there.  We were the best of friends and had terrific conversations about life.

There were only two steps, very close to the ground.  I couldn’t believe how much bigger things were in my memory than they were in reality.

I looked for the steep road where I took the wheelchair flights.  Mother pointed out our road.

“That’s it!”  I was completely astonished.  It was indeed a hill, but didn’t measure up by any means to the one I recalled.

I told her about flying down the mountain road.  She says she didn’t know anything about that.  I sure remember it.  My sisters say they remember too, but oddly, my brother doesn’t and he’s the oldest.  I think he forgot many things he did to his younger sisters.  Like the time he put me in a garbage can and rolled me into the road, but that was later and it was a country road.

I remember clearly the day I put my foot on the floor, which I did every morning, and it didn’t hurt anymore.  The pain was gone!  The bone disease went away just like the doctors said it might.

I didn’t mind giving up the little chair, but I did think I should get to keep it for a souvenir.  I remember wanting it.  Mother says she didn’t think I needed it and donated it to another family.

My ensuing enthusiasm for using my legs was grand.  At age five, I led a large marching band in the Christmas parade because the band leader said I was, “the best little marcher they ever had!”  I took jazz and modern dance classes, but then we moved to the country.  Dancing the way I had learned would have been considered a sin.  This disappointed me, but I soon discovered bluegrass and clogging, the latter of which was a required class in the elementary school I attended.

I didn’t have a bicycle though.  I’d had one when I was five, but then my brother got involved.  He let go of my bike before I learned to ride and I had a bad accident.  I was hurt pretty badly.  I heard my dad ask my mother if I would still be able to have babies.  I was confused.  She told him to shut up and get the car.

Because of that accident, my dad wouldn’t let me get near a bicycle for years, even though my brother always had one.  My two sisters never wanted one, which I always thought was weird and it didn’t help me when I pleaded for my own.  Finally, my dad gave in on my thirteenth birthday.

We went to the local bicycle shop, which was also an auto-parts and lawn-mower shop.  Everyone there knew my dad.  I’d been there with him plenty of times and they all knew I’d been begging for a bicycle for a long time.  I was often invited inside the owner’s house next door and his wife would give me milk and homemade cookies.  I loved her cookies and she made them the day I got my new bicycle.  It was a great day.  My dad let me ride it home, which was less than half a mile away.  You could throw a rock from there to our back door.

I loved that bicycle.  I could ride it fifty miles without thinking a thing about it and I did, often.  There’s a long story about what happened to that bike, but it is one sad story, so I won’t tell it here.

I grew up, had a son and bought us both bicycles when he was three years old.

His was a tricycle, but he begged me to take those two extra wheels off.  “Your bike doesn’t have them Mommy,” he said.

We took the wheels off, but I had a person at each end and several in the middle to catch him if he fell.  He did fall, but he didn’t have far to go and it was in the soft grass.  He didn’t get hurt.  He got up as fast as he could, before any of us could get to him and jumped back on the bicycle.  It was very funny.  I remember him looking back at us as he rushed to pick that little bicycle off the ground.  He never used those extra wheels and we had years worth of fun riding together.  We still enjoy riding together.  I like that.

I can’t go cycling like I could before being struck with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or fibromyalgia.

However, I do have a fun bicycle.  I call it my magic little bike.  It brings out the best in me when I ride it.   I absolutely love moving and feeling the wind on my face.  That’s part of the magic.  Being able to move without pain.  (The trick to that is being on a flat road.)

My little bike also has pink and white streamers and an awesome bell!

Occasionally, I’ll still take my hands off the handle bars and hold them in the air.  I like that too.

Thanks for visiting Dogkisses’s blog!


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Memetastic True Story Revealed

I wrote five stories about myself in an earlier post, MEMETASTIC BLOG AWARD. Only one of the stories is completely truthful.

I confess –this does feel like a confession and one which I hadn’t expected — Story number THREE is the whole truth.

I have an authentic Mile High Club button.  I earned it in college.flying free a mile high, image of mile high pin, nightlights on a plane

I couldn’t believe I found the button, or pin rather, when I looked for it yesterday.  It’s a shiny little pin that one would wear on a shirt, but I don’t think I’ve ever worn it.

It’s as shiny as it was when it was given to me by the professor, who eventually became my long time friend and mentor.  We went on several flights together, but that was the only time we did anything like we did the day we earned our pins.

The only bold-face lie out of the five stories I wrote is number four“I love Comic Sans, Oprah, and Dr. Phil.”

I didn’t know what Comic Sans was until several days ago when I received the Memetasic award from Deb, at DorkyDeb.com.

I’ve never watched a daytime television talk show, unless it’s a PBS special or something of that nature.  I read an article in Oprah’s magazine a couple of years ago, which I enjoyed, but I never watched her show.

I didn’t know who Dr. Phil was until I saw his face on a magazine, while standing in line at the grocery store, which was around about 2004.  I asked my friend who was with me to tell me a little about him.  She was altogether shocked.

The other stories are mostly true.  I’ll likely write about the truth in those in a follow-up post.

About my little wheel-chair in story # 1.  I actually loved the chair because it was the only way I could get around.  And the day I could walk again, which I remember vividly, I was a very very happy little girl!

I have a history with pilots and airplanes.  I don’t know why.  As a result, I’ve flown in old planes, small planes, huge planes and a few in the middle.  A few times, I’ve flown the planes myself, but have never attempted to land one.

My dad took me on my first plane ride when I was about eight years old.  He and his buddy, Carly, who had a plane, but I’m not sure about a license, were quite the pair together.  We lived in the country and Carly had a landing strip on his land.  One time they took one of my sisters and me on what my dad’s friend called the, “roller-coaster in the air.”  We did, “donuts.”

I had great fun, but my older sister has since told me that she was scared.  I was surprised.  She says she didn’t want me to know when we were flying. She was always doing what she could to make me feel safe.

The best times I ever had in airplanes was with a man, Rick, whom I once loved very much.  Flying was a hobby for him.  Sadly, he died in a motorcycle accident not that long ago.  As you may have realized if you’ve read parts of my blog, there is usually an element of something hard in my stories.

The funnest flight I ever took with Rick was when he rented a Cherokee plane for my son’s eighth birthday.  My son is part Cherokee, so this was very special.

Shortly after we were in the air, we looked back to see my son sleeping in the backseat of the plane.  At first, I was afraid that Rick would be offended, but then, he was never offended.  He was the most peaceful human being I’ve ever known.  He laughed.  He knew my son fell asleep whenever he felt safe and relaxed.

“I guess he’s really enjoying himself,” my friend said chuckling.  We had a peaceful quiet trip.  We landed at a great little place where we walked across the road to a country southern home-style restaurant.  My son got to fly the plane for a bit on the way back home.  My friend laughed about my son sleeping on his birthday flight from then on.  He said it was the greatest compliment a pilot could ever receive.

I guess, looking back, I’ve had lots of fun in the air!

Thanks for reading my stories.  As always, thanks for visiting Dogkisses’s blog!


MEMETASTIC BLOG AWARD

I was recently given the MeMetastic blog award!  This award is a fun guessing game for my readers.  Read on…

A fun guessing game for readers!

The award was given to me from Deb, at DorkyDeb.com.

THANKS DEB!  I think 🙂

Once you receive the award you must do a few things:

  • You must proudly display the award in a post.
  • You must list 5 things about yourself and 4 of the 5 must be BOLD FACE LIES.
    (your readers must guess which one is the truth)
  • And you must then pass this prestigious award on, to 5 deserving bloggers.

Below are my five stories.  The five blogs I chose are listed at the bottom of the page.

Remember, only one story is the whole truth!

1) I was confined to a wheel chair, as a result of a childhood bone disease when I was a toddler.  The doctors told my mother I might never walk again.  I hated that chair!  My brother, who is ten years older than I am, used to take me and my little chair on wheels to the top of our steep road, which was deep in the mountains.   My two older sisters would stand at the top of the road, holding my chair, with me in it of course, until my brother made it to the bottom.  He would count to some number, which was their clue to let me go.  I would fly down that mountain in my little chair!  It was great fun!  The best I can remember, my brother always caught me.  My mother didn’t mind this game.  I wasn’t happy the day I put my foot on the floor and was able to walk again because I had to give up my little flying chair.

2) When I was fifteen I skipped school one day.  It was the first time I had ever done anything like that.  In fact, I never broke rules.  I was always trying to be the perfect student.  Anyway, it was raining that day.  I was driving my boyfriend’s truck.  My brother saw the truck.  He began chasing it because he didn’t like my boyfriend.  The road was curvy, but lucky for us, I had learned to drive several years earlier.  I was wearing a pair of, “Candies,” which was a style of high heel shoes popular in the ’70’s.  The heel got caught under the gas pedal.  We both wrecked.  I drove straight into a brick building at 80 mph.  My brother’s car slid into the building too.  The truck I was driving only had a small dent in the corner and I didn’t have a scratch on me.  My boyfriend had serious cuts and bruises.  My brother had to have nine stitches and it totaled his car.   I realized my brother must have done that out of love, so I stopped dating the guy and never saw him again.

3) I have an authentic Mile High Club button, which I had a great time earning.  A professor at a college I attended was also a pilot and ask me if I wanted to go flying.  Sure I told him.   He told me how he had always wanted the button, but never knew a woman brave enough to help him earn it.  I was young and daring!  In order to get the button and become a member of this club, we had to put the airplane in the hanger a mile high in the air, which we did, but not without turbulence.  The plane nose-dived.  I wasn’t the least bit afraid.  I thought it was great fun!  Shortly afterward we were flying normally again.  The professor, whom I obviously had great confidence in, couldn’t believe I didn’t get scared.  “I trusted you knew what you were doing,” I told him.  “I do, but I lost control of the plane.  We nosed-dived!”  he exclaimed.  “We did what?” I asked him.  “We are very lucky,” he added.

4) I love Comic Sans, Oprah and Dr. Phil!

5) I got caught speeding when I was 20 years old.  I had driven my dad’s car to a city an hour away.  It was raining hard and I had decided to see how fast I could make it back home.  I pulled over when I saw the blue lights, rolled down the window about two inches, just enough so I could talk to the officer without getting wet.  The officer asked if I’d been drinking.  I told him all about the wonderful drinks I’d enjoyed earlier.  He said he clocked me at 124 mph.  He and four other officers had chased me for five miles.  I laughed and told him that wasn’t a very long time at that speed.  I went to jail, lost my license and my father didn’t speak to me for a several months.  I learned some important lessons and never drove like that again.

Which story do you think is entirely true?

The Five blogs I chose as recipients!

Seeking Equilibrium

Jessie causing a calamity

Autoimmunemaven’s blog

planetjan

licoriceroot

You can visit the MeMetastic Hop to add your name to the list of recipients of this fantastic award.

I’ve heard that I’ll be hunted down by the creator of this award, pronounced meem-tastic, if I do not correctly follow the instructions.  I’m scared!

I hope you enjoyed my stories.  I also hope you will leave a guess in the comments, as to which one you believe is the whole truth!

Thanks for visiting Dogkisses’s blog!

Michelle.