I Used to Live Here

When I first moved to this city I used to live here in this little house. The house was perfect: one bedroom, intercity surrounded by trees. Downtown, just on the “good side” of the street big old houses cut up for university housing. This picture is a very recent image. When I lived there the house was nice but a bit dilapidated but very livable. The place was totally accessible for me. I was working for the Independent Living Center, batching and the place met my needs. No yard, nothing but concrete perfect for a guy in a wheelchair. This was twenty years ago now much has changed. I still like to get by the place and see how it is doing. I used to park my old Buick by the side of the house there and role up to the front. I remember one time in the middle of winter, I had been out parting with friends and came home. I was not drunk but had had a couple of drinks. I parked my car and was getting out—mind you, I had a folding manual wheelchair then. I would put the chair in behind the passenger seat and scoot across to the drivers side. So, when I would exit I would scoot over open the door the reach back and push my wheelchair out, lock the brakes and transfer into the chair and be on my way. Well, on this particular night, or morning. I did this procedure. But when I went to make the transfer, I don’t know what happened, but the wheelchair slid out from underneath me! I of course fell right on to the cement. The night was cold and dark but the sky was clear. I think there was snow on ground—that’s why the chair slipped. I did not feel cold though and just laid there. The time was after 1:00 in the morning. I kinda hoped that someone would walk by and see if I needed help. I could not yell because with a paralytic diaphragm I could not get enough strength to really yell, so I laid there. I had an epiphany that night as I laid there staring at the universe. I knew how people died. They just let go—anyone could do it under the right circumstances. They just let go. I knew I could just let go, not say another word or do another thing and let the gentle kiss of death brush over my body, close my eyes and be gone. I would be one of those little articles in the morning Tribune: Disable Man Found Dead Beside Car Frozen. It would be that simple. But I could not do it. Though freezing to death occurring to me I just did not see it happening to me right then. So, I dragged my self into a sitting position then over the next hour or so dragged myself back into the Buick and drove to where my wheelchair landed up pulled the chair back into the car and drove back to the parking space and tried again, this time doing it right. I went in to the little house and crashed in my nice warm bed. I think about that event from time to time and wonder what it will be like when it is the time to let go. I was amazed then and amazed now to know that we have a choice.