c’est la vie
A month after his fifth birthday,
To the day,
Isaac gets his first wheels.
Despite my full awareness,
The lead up to it of many many months,
Logically it all makes sense,
I can rationalise it well,
Being a year out from starting school,
His fatigue limiting him to how far he can manage in his walker,
Giving him a sense of independence.
And yet I can’t help but feel I’ve failed him again,
By still landing at this reality,
All the hard work,
The constant commitment,
That we would be the ones to defy all odds,
And avoid a power wheelchair.
And the modifications to life,
That come with it.
But then I pull myself from my own selfishness,
And see it’s not about me,
It can’t be,
We will manage,
We always do,
With whatever alterations to our existence we must make,
Because for all those reasons of justification I can conjure,
Isaac needs this,
In whatever capacity he chooses.
And from the moment he’s back in the drivers seat,
The smile from ear to ear,
Says it all.
And the fact that we have to completely disassemble it,
In order to fit it in the boot to take it home,
C’est la vie!