Sometime in the past month, as I lay back in the recliner watching a television show, probably a mindless sitcom, that commercial came on. A Paralyzed Veterans of America commercial.
I usually flip to another station with the too-painful-to-hear-and-watch commercials. Abused animals. Starving children. War-torn cultures. Victims of horrific and traumatizing circumstances. I am unable to help those situations, and these commercials can feel too overwhelming.
This time I watched the commercial, but muted the sound.
The footage showed an at-least-partially paralyzed veteran, his legs and arms and body tremoring as the physical therapists assisted him in an exercise. Some seconds later, the camera view switched to the bottom half of his body under water as he held onto the swimming pool wall and maneuvered his legs to propel his body forward, 'walking.' I couldn't see the tremors under water. But I'm sure they were still there, just not visible.
I felt the relief, the lightness of weight, and the slice of freedom that comes with the ability to lift one's limbs.
I am not paralyzed.
And I have not seen war or combat.
But my limbs are impeded, and I can relate to the feeling of freedom in water as it lightens the load of the earth-sucking heaviness that comes with nerve damage.
As I watched him water-walk, and as the angle of the camera view switched to the smile and joy on his face because he could propel his own body with his own body, I thought of my bike, Olivia, and the freedom she brings me.
In the past year I've struggled with purpose of life. I've wondered, Why push to keep my limbs and body functioning if that is all I do? It feels so vain, so pointless, if I accomplish nothing more than self-care. I have little, if anything, left over to give or contribute to family and friends and community.
And as I watched this hero veteran, TV still on mute, I realized there is great purpose in continuing to strive, even if the only aim is to continue to be able to care for my self.
It is the right thing to do.
As much as I am able to dress my body, feed my body, clothe my body, bathe my body, emotionally learn to nurture my self, and all that is entailed with those aspects...the less Hubby and children will have to be burdened with those activities.
That doesn't mean they don't help.
But, the more I can do, the better for all.
And as I watched, but didn't hear, that commercial, I thought that self-care is the right and good and even noble thing to do.
The struggle of feeling of what is the point of keeping my body working if that's all I can do, eased a bit. And in that moment, I felt good about my 'accomplishments' of self-care each day.
I will bring that moment to remembrance in the future.
Yes, it is obvious and logical that self-care is a worthy cause in and of itself. But it is not always easy to feel that way because, at least outwardly, I am unable to contribute much to community and others.
Yes, I still have a few pet clients that I care for. And that gives me purpose too.
Dad was a WWII veteran. He served in the Coast Guard as a radar technician. That's all I know about that part of his life. My family wasn't big on sharing history as I was growing up.
Dad became a quadriplegic in a car accident over 50 years after serving in the Coast Guard. He was able to utilize his veteran benefits even though he wasn't wounded in service. But, he was cared for at home most of his 12+ years living as a quad. Through those years, Hubby and I occasionally made financial donations to The Paralyzed Veterans of America.
Dad died on a Friday, 2/16/96, in a snow storm that shut down part of the US east coast.
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