October 20, 2008 Michael AugustineLisez en Francais
Hi folks,
I want to apologize for whining so much during my last posting. Your words, and those of others who are closer to me made me realize that my current relapse is just another example of life handing you lemons, and you turning around to make lemonade.
Case in point:
I decided that in order to get better, I needed a bit of time to decompress from the pressures that life had been applying. Therefore, I bore down and decided to go home for the Thanksgiving Weekend. I grew up in a small city; more a big town than anything else. Although it is well-known, it remains still very much “small” in its ability to accommodate people with my mobility issues. Thus, I usually dislike going to visit my parents, not because I don’t love them, which I do with all my heart, but because their house is also very inaccessible and challenging to maneuver in. Still, I grit my teeth and made the effort. My partner had a previous family engagement elsewhere and as I do not drive, I had to make arrangements to take the train, resolving myself to traveling solo for four hours, back home.
Just so you know - I love taking the train! Before I became ill, I would voyage at least twice a month, during college, to visit my family. I find it to be the most comfortable and relaxing way to travel, as well as being the most scenically appealing. When my walking became seriously affected, it was no longer viable for me to travel that way. It took some time for the rail system to properly accommodate wheelchair patrons, and I wondered if this time would be as pleasant as I recalled.
Booking a trip online was challenging. This being my first time, I became seriously confused, and had to resort to using my parents’ credit card, having inadvertently frozen mine through several failed attempts. The plan was to leave Friday, before the weekend, and then to return the following Tuesday, thus making the most of my mini “vacation.” Eventually, I succeeded in making the reservations, and was elated at somehow miraculously managing to receive the advance booking discount for the full return trip, saving me over a hundred dollars. Eager to once again indulge in a favorite activity, I preemptively called the station the next morning, and confirmed that, yes, my booking had been successful, and any special arrangements needed would be made.
I awoke at 5 am that Friday, in order to ensure I would arrive in a timely fashion at the depot in the neighboring city. However, when I got there in the wee hours to pick up my ticket, the booth agent appeared somewhat confused, and informed me that my ticket had been booked wrong. I immediately panicked when she told me she would have to upgrade me to first class. I had no additional cash on me, and my credit card was still frozen. What was I to do???
I needn’t have worried!
As it turns out, all trains running the southern corridor currently have only one available seat, per trip, for wheelchair patrons. As luck would have it, that seat always happens to be in first class. Moreover, because it is the only seat ever available, it gets charged at the regular rate, while still including ALL the perks, like a full hot meal, complementary beverages, snacks, and business class seating - perfect for a guy that needs to spread his legs when traveling long distances.
Needless to say that between the ease of boarding, the superb customer service, the comfort AND the price, this went down as my best trip to date.
The weekend continued to follow similar trends, as I spent a very nice visit with my parents, my sister’s family, and my toddler niece, none of whom I had seen in person since Christmas last. Moreover, the entire extended family was present for our Sunday dinner, allowing me to reconnect with people I had not seen in many months. An added bonus, I was able to visit two of my oldest friends from college, who had ironically moved mere minutes from my parents only a few years prior. The trip ended with an equally comfortable ride home, another catered meal, and the chance to catch up with yet another close college friend, who kindly drove me home from the station, saving me the two hours of bus rides and luggage hauling.
And here’s the thing: if I hadn’t been feeling unwell, I’d have never gone in the first place!
Life works in truly funny ways. I’ve stopped trying to understand it now, in any way other than hindsight (which is always 20/20). It never ceases to amaze me how God, luck, or fate, or karma - whatever it is at work in the universe - always seems to steer you where you seem meant to go.
I’m curious for those of you out there who read my last entry, and related to the words I wrote...did the holiday also provide you with that touchtone of hope? Was there something else that may have given you that lift? Rather than use this as another opportunity to vent, share with me your uplifting stories from the past week and how they may have helped you through some difficult times.
I look forward to hearing from your stories.
Irreverently yours,
Aug, who is always looking for a little more hope!