What limping means

When I am sitting…in a restaurant, at the airport, in the audience somewhere…not one single person would see me as anything but a smiling(usually!) woman living life. Typical woman, drinking coffee, having a conversation, whatever…

When I rise, that changes.

My dad insisted, yes insisted, that I have a cane. I didn’t want a cane, and I remember having pretty emotional words with him over the issue.

Guess what? I have a cane. It’s a clear, acrylic cane. Ahh, compromise :-)

I have it because the situations that I need it are unpredictable. Never at home, never at work, never ever when I am familiar or comfortable in the environment I am in. Instead, it’s for the security I may need when I am somewhere that I can’t predict…a crowded restaurant, shopping at the mall, going somewhere new.

The cane is clear acrylic so that it is the least noticeable of my accessories :-) In other words, notice me, not my cane, please! That cane goes with jeans or an evening dress, relatively unobtrusively.

But I have a far more important thought about that cane. I have the cane so that there is never an excuse to stop moving ahead.

I wouldn’t need it if I just sat. I wouldn’t need it if I was content to stay where I am. And I wouldn’t have it if I let fear rule.

My “limp” is visible (is yours?), but I choose to reveal it because I refuse to stop living. I am looking for people in my life who get that…who see the “limp” as courage, even beauty. Is it beautiful to see people with setbacks just keep walking? I hope so, and I think so.

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