Walking in the sunshine

The truth is that it was like a dream. I appeared to be in a private garden. And although I knew that I had never been here before, somehow this place seemed strangely familiar. Or was it just the feeling of tranquility and peace that held me captive in my surroundings?

Curious, I went walking. Nestled against a background of trees and shrubbery, the flowers looked so mag­nificent in colour. Gently, I took one, a beautiful red rose between my fingers and smelled it. I had never before experienced the velvety touch and texture of its petals while holding a flower in my hands. Yet this wasn’t something that I was thinking about at the time. It just seemed to come naturally to me as if I had been doing it all my life.

“Hello Flower.” I whispered, “You are looking very beautiful today.” I could feel the strength of its stem reach out to greet me and the richness of its colour seemed to ignite and glow in the radiance of the sun. Then I went to the next flower, and to the next. This was such an enchanting place.

Suddenly I heard a voice behind me call my name. Turning, I saw a man standing in the distance. He was watching me. I am a fairly shy person and always stand back, reluctant to take part in any form of interchange when in the company of people I have never met before. But here, there was for me, an awareness that I was in a safe place and I felt strangely drawn to this man.

“Do I know you?” I inquired.

“No...But I know you.” His voice was strong, but gentle and appealing. His long snow-white hair lay neatly around his shoulders and he wore very unusual robe-like clothes that sat snugly, fastened around him with a shining gold sash. The sun seemed to envelope this man with a radiance that emanated pleasure on looking at all that was his and his eyes were compassionate and searching, reaching right down into my soul. I felt that I had seen him somewhere before, but for the life of me, I could not remember where. Obviously, this was the place in which the man felt happiest. It seemed logical to me that this was his home. But what was I doing here? Yes, I was captivated. I wanted to know more. Quickly, I walked on over to him.

“Do you know my mother then?” I asked, my super sleuth inquiring mind now in action.

“Yes,” he laughed, “I know everyone in your family....and I know your Granddad Victor.”

Oh, yes. I thought. Many people would have known him. As I remembered him, a warm, familiar feeling came over me. But he was gone, and suddenly, so was that feeling.

“He died.” I said resignedly.

“Would you like to see him?” The man asked me.

Well now, there was that happy feeling again. “Yes...” I felt so excited, “Yes, I would like that?”

My last memory of Granddad Victor, my father’s dad was at my seventh birthday party. Granddad Victor was blessed with such a charismatic personality. His eyes were sea blue and seemed to sparkle and dance. They reminded me of the waves of the ocean as they are touched by the sun on a warm summer’s day. Every fibre of his being seemed to come alive as he told his stories and we all knew that they were true.

On this occasion of my birthday, Granddad had dressed up as a clown, with painted face, big red nose and clothes to match. He enter­tained my friends and me most of the day with songs and dance. He also had a puppet called Charlie, who inspired us with his amazing ability to tell jokes. I thought Grandad was so clever because I never once saw his lips move as Charlie was speaking. Most of my friends were not disabled like me, so the room was abuzz with the joyous dancing, jumping, squealing and prancing about the room.

After the party, Granddad took my friends and me out to his farm to see his race horses. They were trotters and I loved to watch them practice. My favorite horse was called Dobbyn, I believe he was named Dobbyn by my cousin Jimmie who worked with the horses and had named him after his favorite New Zealand rock star. But Dobbyn’s official name for racing was “Toot Toot Laddie”. At seventeen hands tall and so big and physically powerful, to a seven year old in a wheelchair, Dobbyn seemed like a giant. Yet I could see that he himself knew how he was handsome in his shining chestnut coat. I was always in awe as he trotted to the start line of the race. With his head held high, his mane dancing in the gentle breeze and his purposeful stride, he was so beautiful to watch. The sight of him always took my breath away. Oh, he did not win every time, but he did have tenacity and constantly gave his best and Granddad often discussed Dobbyn’s progress with me.

“You know.” he said to me one day, “Dobbyn reminds me of you.”

I was very interested to know how this could be as Dobbyn was so much stronger more able than I that it hardly seemed possible. Yet I knew that Granddad Victor was so wise and that whatever he saw would be something I could learn from.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “Dobbyn is very loyal. Do you know what loyal means?” Yes, we discussed many important things, my granddad and I.

Granddad also took me to fishing in the stream by the old meatworks. He had his own favourite spot where he said that the fish were huge and juicy. But I never saw any evidence of that. Come to think of it, I never ever saw him catch a fish there. Yet, we always seemed to have a great time anyway. Whenever we were together time seemed to stand still. Caught up in conversations about life and things that would mean nothing to anyone but we two, neither of us noticed the vast difference between our two lives. The fact that he could talk and I was unable to do so never hindered our conversation. And the reality that I could not bait a hook was not important to my granddad. I was his fishing mate, the one who sat with him and waited expectantly for the fish to nibble, the one who ate egg sandwiches with him and I was the one who went home without a fish, without remarking on this phenomenon. Yes, we had always been very close, my grandad and I.

A few months after my birthday party, there was that terrible accident on the farm and suddenly, Grandad was gone. Now, here I was in this miraculous place and maybe, just maybe, my Grandad was here too.

Scanning my surroundings again I noticed someone standing in the distance. He began to walk towards me and as he did so, I thought that I recognized him. Could it be? Yes it was I was sure of it. Then throwing all caution to the wind, I began walking towards him too. Faster...Faster and faster I went until I was running. Our arms went around each other and Granddad pulled me close to him.

“Hello my little sunshine.” He whis­pered.

“Hello Grandad.” I replied, “It is really you, isn’t it?”

 “Of course it is me.” He laughed, “I look like me, don’t I?” Yes, it certainly was my granddad. He still looked the same as he always had. That gaping hole in the left front of his old woollen jacket that he always loved to wear reminded me of the many hours that I had watched him working on his beat-up old tractor, trying to make it go. And the sweet, comforting smell of roll-your-own tobacco caught me by surprise as I came near. It stirred many memories of the happy times we had spent together when I was a child.

I took his hand, and we began to walk very slowly. This was such a unique moment and this, the most perfect place to meet up again with someone you love. Yes, to remem­ber secrets and precious moments that don’t fade with time, but stay with you for eternity as a tangible proof of the power of love and caring for one another.

At first glance this garden had seemed quite small, almost like a private estate as one might find in the more affluent area of a city. Yet as Grandad and I began to walk, the path and scenery seemed never-ending. The flowers seemed taller, more striking than I remember ever seeing flowers look like. They reached proudly towards the warmth of the sun, revealing their fine colours and delightful perfumes. There was so much to see, to touch, to experience and at the same time, I had a feeling that I was catching only a tiny glimpse of the extraordinary splendour of this place. The gardens were set out so that every flower, every plant was in its right location, colour and sizes moulding to bring the best out in each other. As I breathed in this new and exhilarating atmosphere, I could not help but feel pleased to be here. This might be a place where I could settle. The song of the wind could be heard through the trees, yet I did not feel in the least bit chilled, and the sun wrapped its great cloak around me, holding my tiny form as if in a glass cabinet, but still, I was not burned. It appeared to me that every season and every awareness of things that would touch our lives on earth was right here in this place. Yes, I could come to like it very much here.

“Remember those days when we used to go fishing down in the stream near the old meatworks?” said Grandad, his eyes glowing as he cast his mind back to days gone by. I couldn’t help but smile too as I remembered.

“We spent hours at that old fishing hole, but we never caught anything.” I replied, “You were always hopeful though. But I never even saw any sign that there were fish in that stream.”

He laughed. “Oh, but they were wonderful times, happy times. They were the best for me. Yes, just me and my girl. You don’t go fishing anymore...Or maybe you do.”

I eyeballed him, suspiciously, unsure of what he was actually saying. Obviously he wasn’t talking about fishing. Nervously, I looked closer at my surroundings. For some strange reason I suddenly felt very embarrassed and just wanted to try to avoid that subject.

“This is an amazing place.” I tried to sound very sure and convincing, but I knew that I was stammering.

Putting his arm around my shoulders, Granddad pulled me closer to him as we walked. I rested my head on this chest and feeling the warmth of his love afresh, all my apprehensions just disap­peared.

“You deserve to have someone who treats you like a woman.” He said in almost a whisper and I could feel the warmth in my face as the evidence of my embarrassment appeared, I suppose in a blush of soft pink. I knew of course, that in his own way he was referring to Pete.

The Accident

Chapter One

I felt a tingle of excitement ripple through my body as I heard the postman blow his whistle. Curious­ly, I looked over at Mother, who was sitting nearby doing some sewing. Then I began wheeling myself towards the door.

“I’ll get it.” She growled. Suddenly, every muscle in my body tightened and the cold finger of fear poked its way into the deepest part of my stomach. I dared not contradict her. Mother was in a particularly bad mood today. Yes, until this moment, she had been quiet and occupied, but I knew that in a flash this could all change and all hell would be let loose. I often felt as though I was in the army and that she was the Commander General – if there is such a thing in the Armed Forces. So I stopped, sat still and waited. Presently, she put down her needlework and went outside to the mailbox to get the post. “One for you.” she mumbled gruffly as she walked back through the doorway, “looks like Pete again. I hope that you two are not getting too fond of each other.” She then sat down again and resumed her sewing and that was that. Not another word was spoken.

I did not like that statement. In truth, it was a statement that made me very angry. Suddenly, í felt every muscle in my body again tighten and my breathing become shallow as I fought to stay calm and in control of myself. So, what did she mean by the words “too fond”? And who made her judge and jury over my feelings? SHE had her own close friends with whom she spent a great deal of time. In fact every­body I knew had close friends, spending time together and communicating through letters and even speaking to them by telephone. I could not see why it should be so different for me. Just because I have a physical disability, it does not mean that I am disabled mentally, or emotionally. Perhaps I was expected to sit at home alone and stare at the walls all my life. What a prospect! Anyway, it was too late. Pete and I were already more then fond of each other. Although the miles separated us physically, this was no hardship to our romance. We were in love and I didn’t care who knew about, it or what they thought about it. Tucking my letter down beside me, I began to move towards the door. I would find a more private place to read it.

What a beautiful day it was outside. The sun was shining brightly and there didn’t appear to be any clouds in sight. This was just the kind of weather that made me feel good. And to top it all off, a new family was moving in across the street. I could hear that there was a great deal of activity going on over there and since I was such a “curious child”, anxious to see it all, I wheeled myself part way down the drive so that I could get a better view. Now a few weeks previous to this, my father and brother Steve had concreted the driveway, and near to the road there was a small slope. They had warned me about this, telling me to be careful. But today in my curious efforts to see what was happening across the way, I had for the moment, forgot­ten about the dip. As I went over the incline, the wheelchair began to move on its own and because of my slow reactions; I was unable to stop it. For a few moments I felt excited as the chair gained speed until it was moving at a lightning pace. The cool touch of the breeze whizzed past my face, stirred by the fray of the mo­ment, carrying with it my hair which was now dancing to its own aspirations. I felt like I was flying and I was excited. But then there came the fear as I saw the road materialize before my eyes, a wall of black bitumen, and a terrifying realization of the truth of my situation as it flung itself towards me.

Right at that moment, my father was driving along on his way home for lunch. He too had noticed the people that were moving in over there and for a few seconds, took his eyes off the road. So he didn’t see my predicament. As he turned into the driveway, probably a little faster then he should, I came out to greet him in my wheelchair, totally out of control! The car hit my chair, and I was hurled out of it. And that’s the last I can remember of that until I found myself in a different place.