Did I know what I was getting myself into? What was I thinking? Going to a camp with severely handicapped children to care for them, be their protector. Parents handing over their child and placing her needs into our hands. Guardians having their complete trust in us and knowing that everything will be okay. Did I know that everything was going to be okay?
Waiting in line for a roller coaster is always nerve racking. Anxiety building up as the minutes pass, and butterflies fluttering around in your abdominal area. Stepping into the ride as safety bars fall over your shoulders. Do you really want to do this? Fasten your seatbelts everyone, the ride’s about to begin.
When I know that I help these kids it makes me feel accomplished. It gives me a rush that I don’t normally feel. When I look deep into their innocent eyes I see their troubles and I want to reach out for them. And although many of them can’t speak, you still know deep down that they are crying and singing thank you.
Higher and higher the roller coaster soars. Checking every so often to see if we are due to reach the peak soon. Such a thrill you get, because it feels like you’re flying, on top of the world, and nothing can stop you.
Working with children with special needs is not an easy job, and many people question why one would even accept the challenge. Kids pulling your hair and screaming in your face is only on an average day. Running away and words of hate are also commonalities. Yet through all these struggles, you still feel like reaching out to them.
As you go faster and faster downhill, you close your eyes in fear. Why did you do this to yourself? Your stomach forms a big knot as the nauseous feeling rises. When is this nightmare going to end? Get me off of this coaster – fast!
When night falls what goes through your mind? Not much, actually. You’re probably just tired and exhausted. As you close your eyes you think to yourself what tomorrow will bring. Will you have a good day or a bad day? What is to be destined?
Okay, so the hill is over, but what about the rest of the ride? What kind of weird twists and turns will you be lead into? To where will it take you?
As the summer comes to an end you have a sigh of relief; a tough summer gone well. The experience and the memories sadden you slightly, even though you know you’ll carry them with you. Yes you’re happy that you don’t have to work so hard any more, but at the same time, it feels like a part of you is missing; like you’re leaving something behind. This journey is now part
of your past.
The ride slowly comes to a halt as you think about the wild experience. Was it good, was it bad? None of that sort – it was amazing! Though it was scary, and frightening, you still got a crazy thrill out of the journey, life’s journey, life’s lesson. Unfasten your seatbelts and please exit the vehicle and we hoped you enjoyed your ride.
Life is like a roller coaster ride.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
The Bridge
Slightly chilly, yet warm; scary, yet comforting; confusing, yet clear. The place I am describing has little or no significance to most people. Nevertheless, I hold for it a special place in my heart.
A bridge. A simple ramp-like bridge, made of wood and cement, located in a place that I can call “a home away from home.” Through the eyes of an average person, it may look ugly and dirty. Through my eyes, I see a place in which I can express my thoughts, and dream. I see a place in which I can be calm and peaceful. I see a place that I used to hate.
What could be so scary about a bridge? Walking across it, feeling the humid breeze pass by, and feeling it creaking slightly under your feet. The trees around brush your face lightly, and the tall grass gently sweeps your ankles. What seems simple enough to cross was torture for me.
Fainting by the edge… hitting my head… waking up from compressions… choking on water… smothered in a gas mask… lifted onto a stretcher… hearing the sirens of an ambulance… stabbed with an I.V needle…
Weeks passed by, and I always managed to find an alternative route, rather than walking on the bridge. Trampling through mud and dirt, getting bitten up by mosquitoes, and feeling the strong, sticky heat rush into my head always seemed like a better option than crossing the bridge.
One day, realizing that enough was enough, I decided to cross it. Step, by step and inch by inch, I made my way across. Sweat was dripping down my face and tears were streaming down my cheeks. My legs were shaking violently and my friends were cheering me on. And you know what? I did it.
As time went on, the bridge became my comfort zone. I shared many conversations there, I shared laughter and tears there, and I said goodbye to my camp there. It was the place where I would contemplate, looking at the beautiful trees, admiring the tall grass, and staring into my bunkhouse through the window. I now realize how lucky I am that I found my place. And it was all because I crossed the bridge.
A bridge. A simple ramp-like bridge, made of wood and cement, located in a place that I can call “a home away from home.” Through the eyes of an average person, it may look ugly and dirty. Through my eyes, I see a place in which I can express my thoughts, and dream. I see a place in which I can be calm and peaceful. I see a place that I used to hate.
What could be so scary about a bridge? Walking across it, feeling the humid breeze pass by, and feeling it creaking slightly under your feet. The trees around brush your face lightly, and the tall grass gently sweeps your ankles. What seems simple enough to cross was torture for me.
Fainting by the edge… hitting my head… waking up from compressions… choking on water… smothered in a gas mask… lifted onto a stretcher… hearing the sirens of an ambulance… stabbed with an I.V needle…
Weeks passed by, and I always managed to find an alternative route, rather than walking on the bridge. Trampling through mud and dirt, getting bitten up by mosquitoes, and feeling the strong, sticky heat rush into my head always seemed like a better option than crossing the bridge.
One day, realizing that enough was enough, I decided to cross it. Step, by step and inch by inch, I made my way across. Sweat was dripping down my face and tears were streaming down my cheeks. My legs were shaking violently and my friends were cheering me on. And you know what? I did it.
As time went on, the bridge became my comfort zone. I shared many conversations there, I shared laughter and tears there, and I said goodbye to my camp there. It was the place where I would contemplate, looking at the beautiful trees, admiring the tall grass, and staring into my bunkhouse through the window. I now realize how lucky I am that I found my place. And it was all because I crossed the bridge.
I'm Back!
Sorry everyone! For those of you who have been reading my posts, I thank you. I have been so busy lately, I just have no time for blogging anymore! When you're a Senior you just have no time for anything! Starting now I'm really going to try to write more often. Thanks again everyone for reading my blogs!
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