He isn't bound to the wheelchair

I have been leaning on Ron a little more lately. He is happy to have me do it. I read him yesterday's blog and he listened. That was awesome. I really enjoy our early morning talks, before I do my God time. Talk to my husband, talk to God, ready to go.

I really enjoy our outings, too. I am certain most people's idea of "fun" does not include pushing 140 pound spouse, in a wheelchair, up to a few miles a day in the sun on feels-like-100, and riding the "scary" bus. But I'm not most people! [laughing]

I'm sure "normal" looks at a wheelchair as horribly oppressive symbol of debility and handicap. "I'm wheelchair bound - my life is over now." Pah! For us, the wheelchair is a wonderfully liberating tool. Today, Ron wanted to go to Starbucks. He knew he could get there because we had the wheelchair. He was able to walk as far as he could, and then tell me when he needed to ride. He knows I view pushing him as "no big deal" and that I'm simply grateful to God for a strong body.

I continue to marvel at how Ron and I perfectly compliment each other. You'd think I'd be more accustomed to it after 18 years, but I'm not. And the wheelchair? It's a useful tool - I look at it probably the way you look at your car. It's a great, durable tool. It has flown cross country, traveled on a cruise ship, ridden the Greyhound, and rolled in the sand at Galveston. It's gone up and down seawalls, countless Wal-marts, over plush carpeting and cracked sidewalk. It's held up Ron's skinny butt in any situation, and offered me a comfy respite from standing on more than one occasion (he stands up for a bit, while I sit). I love it. I consider it a member of the family.

I hate the whole "bondage" thing too. "He's WHEELCHAIR BOUND". Oh, please! Maybe I'm just a sick-minded pervert, but when I hear wheelchair bound, I think of some skinny white dude, in a leather mask, naked, tied up in a wheelchair. Not a pleasant image! Even if Ron were paralyzed and unable to stand, he wouldn't be bound to the chair - liberated by it. Can you imagine life for the paralyzed before the invention of wheelchairs? They must have had to crawl, be carried or dragged everywhere they went. In the New Testament, a paralyzed man is carried by his friends (Mark Chapter 2). So, for someone with a disability, a wheelchair is actually an object of liberation. Because of the chair, they can go places, do things, and have a great time with their loved ones.