Not
over things with the house. It’s fine. A few minor things here and there that
needs to be fixed, but nothing major that a Saturday around the house couldn't fix.
No,
this is something far less important, and yet, something I ponder about daily.
I know it’s not that important. It’s barely noteworthy. The fact that it takes
up any space in my brain, let alone regular thoughts about it.
The
“it” in this case, is a wheelchair. There’s nothing remarkable about this it.
From all appearances, it’s your standard wheelchair. No bells or whistles, just
a chair and wheels.
Honestly, unless it’s a motorized wheelchair, I wouldn't know a fancy wheelchair from a standard one. And I haven’t really looked closely at it, you know, since it’d be rude to stare at it.
Now
here’s what has got me so perplexed about this. This wheelchair has spent the
past month at the end of a driveway near the street for the month we've lived
here. I've never seen anyone in it. For that matter, I haven’t seen it move in
a month. It’s just sitting there day after day.
Rain.
Shine. Wind. No matter what the weather, it sits out there. I can’t, for the
life of me, figure out why. And I also can’t figure out why it’s taken up any
small portion of my life (and now yours if you've bothered to continue reading
after I found out I was writing about a semi-abandoned wheelchair.)
Should
anything change, I’ll keep you updated.
1 comment:
The only rational end to this pondering is to introduce a second wheelchair and to race said wheelchairs down the block - possibly for cash, definitely for pride.
I don't own one, but the 80 year old lady a few doors down looks like she might not make it to baseball season.
You draw up the course. I'll stock up on Febreeze to that we don't have to smell like the 1930s after the race.
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