It has been an interesting day. It feels like winter again. I think it last felt like winter in December. This is Phoenix.
Overcast and chilly. Oh Rain, you could complete this day.
We know you won’t. But, you could. Just try a little harder.
The morning was spent changing positions, from one couch to another. Then some time outside, on the patio, to soak up memories of cold desert.
Handy. Come summer.
Each time I moved, I limbered my limbs, until I was ready to leave.
Had to go to Mesa. Or, Meza, as a self-described Mexican girl pronounced it, for fun, in her call to a local radio station.
Language changes, in the fascinated minds of youth. Maybe, Meza is cooler than Mesa. Or maybe she was just being silly.
I found the shop easily. Seen it before, from the road to my mom’s oldest brother.
I don’t know when I actually started paying attention to wheel chair dealers. But, in the last six months I noted the store, in passing.
Yesterday I brought it up to both Anne and Wen Ling. Sometime soon, I’m gonna need one. Best to start thinking about it now, than to start shopping after it’s already necessary.
The store was probably an old 7-11. Like Lawson’s, to me in my youth. Which of the two, neglected, handicap spaces should I choose? And why was the official one furthest from the entrance?
And, why do wheel chair dealers need handicapped parking spots outside? Who else would be parking here?
Inside was down. Most of the wares were used and grey. Painted sad, as if happy were forbidden.
Purple and banana would be wow.
But, the woman who helped me couldn’t have been nicer, or more helpful.
I will need a chair, not a scooter. I insist on a high back with a head rest. And motorized. Can’t push myself when a mug of beer is too heavy to hold while talking.
She told me things to consider.
I sat in a few used ones, and thought of their previous, anonymous owners.
She also pointed me to a number of resources in the community.
She suggested I pay a visit to ABIL, the Arizona Bridge to Independent Living.
Another place I have passed, countless days past.
Never noticed once. But, what a great idea!
There were more resources. But, I told her, thank-you no. The booklet she gave me, an index to local resources for the disabled, was plenty.
More thoughts for the road. My Civic is probably too small to carry a chair.
Consider a van.
As I left, I studied the neighborhood. It’s fun to imagine myself in the places I visit.
This neighborhood in Meza has been home to entire lives lived.
As children, my friends and I would ride our bikes to Lawson’s, to buy bubble gum and baseball cards.
And I imagine this store, and kids who bought theirs here. As teens they might have made their first under-age beer purchases inside.
Is it possible to purchase a wheel chair from the same building where you once bought bubble gum and beer? How weird if you did, without thinking.
The Atheist Who Believes in God 