So i’ve been told that embedding music in a blog is frowned upon. And since this is my first post I dont want to offend. If you will, if you wont, if you do, if you dont, its not my call. But you’ll get to know this chic betta if you watch the video above that inspired my introduction.
One of my friends asked me why I am making a blog. I didn’t know how to express why at that moment. Now that I’ve had time to think about I will try.
I thought I should do a disclaimer. I’m not the best speller or a queen at grammar in general. Without notice I can switch English, Ebonics, pop culture, sports references to hip hop quotes, to plane Allison talk. Please hang in there but know that sometimes the ride gets bumpy.
When my lil sister and friends told me I should start a blog I was afraid I wouldn’t have enough to talk about. Then it occurred to me I’m a black, in a wheelchair, with a chronic illness (MS), married to a white man with two poodles, pushing up on 40.
These days I try to take life has it comes. I’m not who I was, not who I’m gonna be, I’m who I am now and I’m fine with that. Better than that I’m GOOD! I’m married to the LOVE of my LIFE that happens to be my BEST friend. Does it get to be better than that? I’m good. I’m good.
Some people see me and they don’t see ME, they see the wheelchair first or see what I was. Better yet what they think they should see. Friends, family and whoever think they are treating me like everyone else but even if their words don’t say it their energy does. You ain’t sly. PLEASE its’ written all over your face.
Yo PEEP this. I know who I am. Like I said I’m a 39 yr old, in a wheel chair, have MS, a black woman, married to a white man. I got me, so get you. It’s amazing how some people treat people in wheelchairs. Don’t touch my hair, rudely interrupt my conversation by leaning down grabbing my shoulders and kissing my check or stand to my left or right side talking to me so I have to WRENCH my neck straight to talk to you. Forget about grabbing the chair next to you and sitting and chat with me eye to eye.
I love Bartholomew, she isn’t hung up on the past. She sees me and just me, always has. Whether walking with a cane, four wheel walker, or a wheelchair she’s my, ”Ride or Die Chic”. Just gets it! Just a quick how ya doin, how ya feelin and then keeps it mov’n. Don’t get your panties in a bunch if I’d say you and you get it to. Just know that I appreciate you.
I’m 5’7 and weigh 140 pounds. In the heels heffers wear today I’d be 5’10 or 5’11, a black woman, weighting 140 pound 39 years old. Would you step to me like you do now? Would you give me more respect and my personal space?
My point is please respect me and handicap people, whatever their disability is. BACK up off me!
The thing I appreciate the most about being in the chair is seeing a different vantage point than I’d ever have the chance to see. There is a four year old boy, bright blue eyed, toe head and 25% deaf in my congregation. He came up to me and asked for a kiss, so I bent over, turned my head and gave him my cheek to kiss. He reached up grabbed my face abruptly turned my head and laid one dead on my lips. Thought to myself all righty then and looked at his Mom for direction. She smiled and laughed. She told me Gav always tells her I am his friend because I listen to him. Being hearing impaired his speech isn’t perfect. I have to look at him dead in the face and see his words while I hear them. If I was 5’10 in heals would I have thought of or been patient enough to bend down and look into Gav’s eyes and hear his words? Or see the beautiful things I’ve seen waiting for Albert at the bottom of the stairs out in service?
Truth be said, I know I would have been the person who stands in their 3 or 4’ heels and talk to a person in a wheelchair while they turned straining their neck. Never stopping to smell the roses, let alone counting their petals. Note! I’m proud of that and don’t like being continually reminded about that era of Allison.
I would have however stopped going to clubs and bars with people who drink too much and needing to stay out past midnight. Moms were right, nothing good happens after midnight. Don’t get it TWISTED. I don’t miss that life one single bit, it’s not the wheelchair! Can’t quite afford the top shelf but I’m out of the “well”. I enjoy a good glass of vino and am getting better at recognizing a good bottle. Occasionally think of the past but live in the present….I’m just say’n