Saturday, 20 April 2013

Living Room

There is a stiff breeze blowing outside, whistling and whirring its way past my window, rising and falling in tone and tempo, telling me that spring is on the way. It's a cold wind yet there is no hint of snow in the flat grey sky that reaches to the northeast of my apartment. The snow is out there, I know it. But maybe, just maybe this time it will be the last of the season. Or maybe last time was the last of the season and this buffeting is just the first hint of the greening that is on the way.

The poor pine tree is getting a shaking, its cones clinging still in the upper reaches, pods open in diamond black pattern round these brittle hard seed pods. The birds have been eating at them all winter. Many have fallen under the push of wind or weight of snow. Only those in the highest branches cluster still, sad reminders of what used to be, yet proud retainers of the hope for spring that even the trees share, looking for the opportunity to let go of their precious contents and seed the ground anew.

I am sitting here, latte in hand, wondering if I will see another spring from this window. My apartment is only moderately suited for someone in my condition. There is carpet throughout, with underlay beneath, that makes wheelchair motion an extra effort. The bathroom is small, the door itself not quite wide enough for my chair. I am using my walker to get in and out but my arms are failing and soon even the walker will be beyond my ability.

Either I need to make some renovations to this apartment, subject to landlord approval, or I need to move to a different apartment, one with true wheelchair access. This could be difficult. Most apartments are designed to make maximum use of space to allow for living. That means narrow hallways, smaller doors and tighter corners. There are some that are designed specifically for handicapped people. I need to start searching those out to see what I can get.

Maybe it's time for me to look at moving back to the coast, perhaps Sechelt or Comox or Nanaimo. That way I can spend the last days of my life near the ocean, feeling its moist, cool breath as I wheel about. It's another decision which I must make and one with which I have much trouble.

It never gets easier, does it?

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