I have a good friend, at
least I would like to think him a good friend who has a significant
disability, uses a power wheelchair for mobility and is a
professional in the community where I live. He is a political kind of
guy I I have always been impressed with not only with the kind of
work he does but the quantity of work he does. Gosh, I've known this
guy for over 10 years it is our to believe. I have written a number
of posts concerning him one way or another. My friend was relatively
young but I first met him so now he must be getting middle-aged. I
cannot believe he is still in the Salt Lake area. I've ranted and
raved before about how he is sort of overqualified for this area. He
needs to be in a bigger market is not at the big show in DC. I've
ranted and raved a stupid executive directors of private nonprofits
have never used this guide was potential. I've noticed for some
concern the past couple of weeks, it's he has written on his Facebook
page regarding heartbreaks and his spirit both being alone. As I
said, his comments breaks my heart. I cannot believe he is not found
someone at this writing who has not wanted to make a commitment to my
friend. I am a pathetic romantic and I believe there is someone out
there for everyone and actually there is more than person, I think
there are many. I of course have no credibility in this area since
been married three times and none of them worked out, but I want to
believe. Maybe it's true many people with disabilities can't find
love.
In the fall and winter of
1966 I was living at Idaho Elks Rehabilitation Center in Boise Idaho.
I had broken my neck earlier in the year and was in rehab. The days
were filled with actual physical therapy, mat class, rickshaw,
working out with pulleys and waits. I was kept pretty busy however
at 5 o'clock everything seemed to shut down it was the same on
weekends… Tumbleweeds. All the people who are visiting me right
after the trauma at the hospital that pretty well lost interest by
the time I was transferred to rehab. I have kind of a romance while
at the Elks. Her name was Margie Smith, the same last name as my. We
delighted telling others were married. I somewhere have an image of
us together in the ADL room. The foyer of our building was quite a
ways from the nurses station in the residential area. Margie and I
used to go down in our wheelchairs and sit in the dark and look out
over Boise. It was kind of romantic in 1966. Herman's Hermits, part
of the English invasion of the 60s, had a song out called, Kind of a
Hush. This was our song. I don't know if we love each other but we
loved the the song and loved being together. I'm so lucky to have had
Margie. It seemed afterward for a very long time no girls ever wanted
to be more than just a friend. It's what I know my friend is going
through. I told him things get better I don't think he believes me
but I can't say that I blame him. He is aging that is undeniable. If
I get a chance I'm going to tell him to keep stepping up to the plate
(I hate that metaphor) sooner than later is going to hit one out of
the park. I hope it's sooner...
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