Today I feel very wheelchair-bound. Sitting in this spot I can see countless rocks and people reclining on logs, all looking out to the sparkling water and smooth sand. In the distance I can see three little people exploring, their voices drifting back to me among the backdrop of the footsteps of passersby. Even though they are far away, I can distinguish some features of the tiniest body out there... his arms and legs and his orange shirt. He is throwing rocks into the water. He is with a man and woman who are taking pictures of him and pointing out things for him to see and do. The man is his daddy, bent-legged and on crutches but following him closely. The woman is crouching beside him, pointing to all the wonderful scenery. She is my care-aid. Where is his mommy? Wheelchair-bound. Watching with a smile and moist eyes as slowly they make their way towards me hand in hand. My heart swells. My baby is home.
Last year I thought it was hard when a different woman took him down to the water. He was crying...didn't like the coolness of the water against his legs. She thought it was good for him. I died a little. My sweet baby. I should be the one holding him there, deciding whether or not he was comfortable with this new experience. But he didn't need me. Her hands were steady, her feet brought him to the water's edge. Not mine.
Today was different. "Mommy, come!" He implored me to follow him but I could only explain why I couldn't. He looked at my wheels with a level of understanding. A few weeks ago it was at a playground. "Mommy, come!" He wanted me to climb up on the play structure with him. "Sorry babe, Mommy can't. My legs don't work." He cried and asked me a few more times until he gave up and ventured out on his own. A few days ago it was changing his diaper. "Mommy, come!" "You want me to change you?" I asked him. "Yeah, Mommy." He answered, expecting me to come closer and confused why I wasn't. "Mommy can't change you, Jake, my hands don't work." My throat swelled.
I thought it would be easier when he needed me. Asking for me, calling my name, checking to make sure I'm nearby. But it's not. I have to force him to connect and cooperate with someone other than his mommy, even when he's not ready to do so. But what choice do I have? I'm bound.
