| Sunny Side Up with Kathleen Gibson Stay in God�s benevolent grasp During our joint days at Wascana Rehab Centre, I often needed to hole up somewhere quiet and race a writing deadline. When that happened, the Preacher rested or talked with fellow patients. One such afternoon he decided to visit the center�s library. A few days earlier we�d asked the librarian if she�d do some research for us on the long-term outcomes of West Nile Disease. She�d agreed, and had called to say she�d found a few articles. We could come and pick them up, she�d said. In that vast complex the library is at the far end of the second floor. I usually pushed him there, but that afternoon he drove himself, operating his wheelchair with two shuffling feet and one good arm. His trip exhausted him�wife power was less strenuous�but I congratulated him on his independence. I shouldn�t have, perhaps. I noticed something strange in his eyes as he shrugged off my praise. A few days later, in guilty accent, he admitted something. �Hon, I had fun the other day.� �Really? What kind of fun?� �Let�s go to the library,� he said, �and I�ll show you.� I wheeled him down the long run of sky-hall toward the library. The main part of the complex and the wing which houses the library were built in different eras. Somehow the hall of the main building ended up considerably higher than the add-on, a problem solved by the installation of a long ramp. �Stop,� the Preacher ordered, when we reached the top of that ramp. I did, and before I could wonder why, he was gone, his legs lifted a few inches off the floor, his right hand sliding along the handrail, his chair careening toward the wall at the bottom where the hall takes a sharp right turn into the library. I watched in horror, certain of a splat, but just before he crashed, his grip closed on the handrail. The wheelchair gave a mighty jerk, and disappeared around the corner. I flew down that long ramp as fast as he had. He waited around the corner, grinning. �What are you THINKING? You�re a crazy man! What if someone was coming around that corner? You only have one good arm, Rick! D�ya wanna lose that too? And what if you missed and hit the wall? Did you think about that? Unrepentant, still high from his �whoosh�, eyes twinkling, he sat. Trying to stifle that smirk. �I�m okay!� he protested. �Rick, PROMISE me you�ll never do that again. PROMISE. You must NEVER do that again!� I was so angry, so worried I couldn�t help myself. He promised. Every time I watch the news, I think of that. And of a pushed-aside, horrified God, watching his beloved creation tear itself from his benevolent grasp and launch headlong down a ramp of tragic self-will. Of God, running like I did to confront, for love�s reasons alone. Are you listening? �Kathleen Gibson Respond Home |
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