Don’t Pity My Disability
For the last 5 days, I was in Miami, which is truly the land of the beautiful people. Everyone has fantastic tans, is in shape, and is flaunting their beauty in some way, shape, or form. I fit in for the most part as I am decently in shape and keep a solid tan (especially from recent travels), but I am definitely different. In a world of seeming human perfection, I became more and more aware of my flaws daily. In this world, my limp and paralysis in my left leg were magnified. I don’t say this because I THINK that, but I say it because I was questioned over and over about it during the course of the five days. I get questioned at home sometimes, but Miami was somewhat of a barrage by all the people I encountered. I look “normal” for the most part but I am also “handicapped.” People are fearful of this word and when I use it, people always retort strongly, “No, you’re not!” But it is a fact. I have a handicap card, I have handicap parking, and according to anything you read, I am a handicapped man.
Encounters
My first encounter with someone was within 10 minutes of arriving on South Beach. I just parked my rental car, and was walking to the beach. A couple was sitting at one of the many restaurants on the strip and they stopped me. The man asked, “Whoa, man what happened?” Even for me, who gets questioned quite often this threw me off a bit since it was so random. We weren’t conversing; they simply saw me walking by. I stopped and I told them how I was shot and how I had a bullet in my spinal nerves. They had the usual reaction of “Wow, I’m so sorry.” I always stop people here and point out that I’m just blessed to be alive. The couple responded, “Look at you now, crushing South Beach,” which gave me a laugh.
Another encounter was in the Clevelander on Ocean Drive. I walked in and was immediately grabbed by a man, who asked what’s wrong with my leg. I answered him and he, being a few drinks deep, tried to give me some exercises to strengthen the leg. I told him I appreciated him and explained my paralysis but that I’d still attempt his exercises some time. We parted ways and wished each other a goodnight. This is how most of these situations end, but it does make you more self-conscious of yourself especially since this was at night and I was wearing pants and my brace. He tried being helpful and I don’t fault him, but once again I am not “normal.”
Finally, while I waited outside of a surf shop for my friend, I was approached by a group of 3 women. As I stood there, outside the store shirtless, clearly not working there they asked, “Do you work here?” I replied no, and then they asked me what happened as they all looked me up and down. I explained how I’d been shot, and one of the women simply replied, “You still fine though.” (Haha! I still got it J)
As these situations kept coming up I mused to my friend, how I wished I had my legs fully back. How I wish I walked like everyone else. It can be tough.
Perspective
After four days of me thinking and being cognizant of my injuries, we saw a family on the beach. There was a mother and father and their son. Their son appeared to have cerebral palsy. They carted him down in a beach wheelchair with oversized wheels. It was the heart of Spring Break in Miami and the beginning of Ultra Music Festival, so the beach was packed with happy, healthy college aged kids. The father paid them no mind, and he strapped his son with inflatable armbands and a life preserver. He then proceeded to strip down to his bathing suit, pick up his son over his shoulder, and take him to the water. He laid his son in the water, and then his face lit up with an enormous smile. They stayed in the water the next two hours I was at the beach. As I sat there watching this with sunglasses on, I’m not too proud to say, I cried. It was beautiful. The love of father for his son and vice-versa was amazing. The father acted as though they were the only ones on the crowded beach.
It made me realize whatever issues I may have, in the grand scheme of things they are nothing. I walk, I swim, I can get around and do most everything on my own. That child will never know independence. So, while my own disabilities may have seemed so much on display in Miami I realized how grateful I truly am. I’m not supposed to be alive. The fact I am living the life that I am defies all logic. Plus, this new life of mine has also formed me. I am a better man than I was previously. It’d be cool to have my legs back, but I wouldn’t trade them for the man I’ve become. Not everyone can see the beauty that I saw in that father and son and I am truly grateful that I now can.
Life is good. Life is beautiful. I certainly saw it on the beach that last day, and that memory is one I’ll hold forever.
Have an amazing day!!
Eddie