AMWW#64: THANKSGIVING

AMWW#64: THANKSGIVING
 by Abe Munder, the Wheeled Wonder
([EMAIL PROTECTED])

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, because there are no ulterior motives. 
It's all there in the name.  There's no manual, no fine print, no
telemarketers.  Observe it religiously, secularly or with a simple nap in front
of the Lions game: you can't mess it up.

What a cool holiday, where you appreciate what's in front of you now, instead
of focusing on what you still want, which is how many see the coming holidays. 
I realized this "giving thanks" part only a few years ago--raised in American
affluence, I had no idea what thankfulness was.  Not compared to my parents,
both of whom are off the boat from Eastern Europe.  They know Thanksgiving, and
their parents did too.

Maybe it's age, but I tend to think about my father's father this time of year.
 He died 25 years ago.  He still teaches me stuff.

Already before he came over, he was crippled.  They slapped a polio diagnosis
on him after the fact, but they never knew what hit him; they certainly didn't
know MS back then, if that's what it was.  After Ellis Island, he came to
Chicago.  In 1955, there was no such thing as accessible housing.  He felt the
sun and breeze on his skin maybe a dozen times in the final 20 years of his
life.

He was a big man, and the smartest I've known.  Every visit, I got his huge
atlas and sat on his lap, and he told me about a different country.  I was
fascinated to learn that China was thousands of years older than the U.S.  I
assumed every country had its own calendar date; later, during a visit to
Canada I silenced an entire room by asking, "So, what year is it up here,
anyway?"  Dork!

He was good-natured and strong.  It broke my heart watching him struggle across
the carpet to the bathroom when my grandmother was at the factory.  He hissed
with effort, but didn't complain.  Saturdays he filled a bucket with suds and
scrubbed down the floors.  He didn't need to be ragged at to do it.  I know
healthy people who are above manual labor, and sometimes I have to swallow hard
on my contempt.

A generation later, my life is boundless beside his.  How bad are my bad days,
really?  I live in an accessible home in an accessible nation.  I own a power
wheelchair.  I poach handicap gizmos off of eBay.  In my garage is a van with a
powered lift.  I write books, plays, columns on a computer that operates by the
sound of my voice.  My grandfather had none of this, but he sang.  He smiled
wide.  He laughed at Granny clunking Jethro Bodine with an umbrella.  He gave
thanks.

This life of opportunities is an accident of time and place.  I remember my
grandfather, who brought me here.  I give thanks.




-- CAREGIVERS TIP --

Most clothes are ill-fitting to those confined to wheelchairs.  Like bathrobes,
during those blah days, that bunch up in back and don't sit well over the legs.
 This is so clever: vertically split the bottom of the robe in back, like you
are cutting it into tuxedo tails.  Now the robe will fall naturally to the
sides and cover the front and legs (and no one will see your six!).

Do you have any practical solutions or improvised assistive devices that might
be useful to the disabled, the elderly or their caregivers?  Please share your
know-how: send your ideas to [EMAIL PROTECTED] so that I might collect and
offer them (for free, of course) in an upcoming column.  Thank you!




 -- DONATED POWER BATH-LIFT AND JAY GEL SEAT AVAILABLE --

Available free: an upright bath-lift that swivels in and out of a shower, and a
Jay gel seat for scooter or wheelchair.  Please inquire at [EMAIL PROTECTED]





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