Thank you for meeting with me this year to discuss my situation, and please thank your office staff as well for their time in researching things for me. I have to admit, the day you came over, I spent the morning waiting for a phone call to say that you were too busy to meet someone like me (in a more polite fashion perhaps lol). It was an honest shock when you pulled up.
I feel that we had a rapport that day. Obviously it was a one time deal, and I respect that, but I wanted to write you this, because you saved me that day.
You took away my hope.
Don’t worry – in this context, that was a good thing 🙂
See, before we met, I had hope that things might change in this town. That the council would open their eyes, or grow a conscious, or something, and build a hydrotherapy pool so that my children and I could have the therapy that will prolong our lives. That people would become nicer about sharing the world with someone in a wheelchair, or that steps, hills and crowded shops would all suddenly disappear. I had hope, because I had nothing else to hold on to. Hope was what kept me going. “One day…” was my complete source of energy. And while you never said anything outright, I knew after you left that my hope was foolish. Even if “one day” arrived, it would not arrive in time for me.
Hope of course, is what got me into a large part of this mess in the first place. Hope is all the doctor’s ever had – hope that I would spontaneously get better, all on my own. The doctor’s hoped while I waited, and we all wasted precious time while my body deteriorated past several points of no return.
I should have learned that hope can kill, but of course, we are all told that hope can be miraculous aren’t we? We are taught to embrace hope. To give hope our all.
No one ever tells us that hope can just as easily destroy us. It can force us into a life of stasis until there is no life left at all. That is where I was headed.
Not anymore. Now I am headed to a new life, with new hopes and dreams to fly with, rid of the old hopes and dreams that were binding me. My family is moving, and while it is not without it’s negatives (bankruptcy, leaving most of our possessions behind, moving from close friends and family), it certainly has its positives (pool onsite for daily therapy for the boys and I, flat terrain to wheel on, paths everywhere, access, proximity to nearly everything, and one damn gorgeous view that I hope will inspire me to be the outlandish me I used to be once more!). My family is embarking on a new adventure, rather than staying here, languishing with nothing but hope.
2013 sucked, but it can kiss my arse. 2014 is going to rock my world, and the world of my husband and children. And you played a rather significant part in that. So thank you. For your time, and your honesty. For listening with an open mind and an open heart.
In a way, it is a little sad however. Despite my aversion to your political leanings, in the next election, I think I might have still voted for you 🙂
I wish you, your family and friends, all the best for the new year!