Words. Wound.

Seems obvious, doesn’t it?  Words wound.

 

Talking over the television, I say, “Mom, how are you today?’

“Oh, okay,” she mumbles.

“I like your pink sweatshirt.”

“Hmm, hmm.”

“Is it okay if I turn off the television and take you go out for dinner?  Then, on the way back, we can stop for Butter Pecan Ice Cream.”

“I want some chicken.  And ice cream.”

“Okay.  We can go to the little Italian restaurance you like on Taylor Street.”

“I want some chicken with mashed potatoes.”

“Okay.  Do you have your keys with you?”

“What?”

Your keys.  Do you have them?”

“I don’t know.  What keys?”

“The keys to your room.  Let’s find them and turn off your television before we leave.”

“Ah, here’s your keys,” I say as I touch the ribbon around her neck.  “Shall we go?”

As I push my walker towards the door, she turns to look at me and says,  “What’s wrong with you?”

“I have muscular dystrophy.”

“Well, you didn’t get it from me.”

“No, Mom, I didn’t get it from you,” I reply and close the door behind us.

 

 

Published by

Rose Wolfe (Living Free with disAbilities)

Let's get to the elephant first: I have myotonic dystrophy which defines my physical limitations, but it does not define me. Without the distraction of physical activities, I have found my passions: (1) Encouraging others to live more fully with fun, faith, and hope; (2) finding freedom in oil painting; (3) writing about my experiences; and (4) encouraging others to live more passionately. It is my belief that every person lives with at least one disability - for impairments are not limited to those with chronic illnesses. Many neurotypical people are psychological architects who have constructed enclosures in which they trap themselves. Mindsets, attitudes, and perceptions are fluid realities. Many of us have forgotten that it is possible how to live beyond our disabilities. Life may have challenges but faith and hope are within reach. I have made my choice: I am LivingFreeWithdisAbilities.

12 thoughts on “Words. Wound.”

  1. I remember when my mother and I had an argument and she came back with, ‘well all you do is sit there.’ My brother who was present at the time, lost it with her and only then she realised the full implications of what she’d said. I never did ask if she meant that and to hurt me or was it a brain fail moment.

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  3. Speaking is like juggling. Once we’ve sent it into the air we can’t take it back. Speaking is more like juggling knives than tennis balls. If one is juggling tennis balls one can be casual and careless, but when one is juggling knives, one becomes very cognizant of the intended trajectory of each knife.

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  4. When I was 7 and bullied at school my dad used to tell me that words don’t hurt. ‘Sticks and stones may hurt my bones, but words will never hurt me’. I know he meant well, though, of course it’s not true. And, sadly, what is said, can’t be un-said. Many words jumbled in my head, making up memories, some of them painful.

    Love your colourful pixalated picture, I see animals in it.

    Thank you for sharing Rose.
    (((HUGS))) + Love.

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  5. Sigh. Yes. Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart be acceptable. Lots of great comments too. I imagined the art work as word shards thrown together. Hmmm.

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