Today is a great day for me; I have new clothes to try on, perchance in part to return– but new clothes nevertheless.
For three years, since my accident, I may have mentioned, I’ve been going around frumped out, in grey sweats and men’s T’s, feeling grey on the outside and grey within, dragging my deformed and swollen leg stuffed into its array of braces like a bad dream.
I’ve also not believed I could get comfortable on one of WalMart’s mobility scooters– but for the past two nights I’ve stopped off there in the late evening when it’s less lightly that a woman doing a one-legged skate with a walker will be struck down by a drunk driver, and I’ve picked out my trusty steed, climbed aboard and taken off.
I’ve meandered down the aisles, mastered a sharp right or left around a rack full of clothes and holding my breath, run a gauntlet, a swath, between racks, where the coats’ arms flew up like stunned ghosts. I’ve learned to back up in a straight line and parallel park the damn thing. And boy, what freedom– after three years of lugging myself everywhere.
A girl, if she had enough money, could get used to gliding along without much effort. I’m beginning to wonder why I sentenced myself to my reprisal of the main character in Brighty of the Grand Canyon with my plastic bags full of loot or things I portage between places– country and apartment– was I meant for this!?
I’ve dodged floor polishers and tired shift workers trotting around the corner wielding box cutters. I’ve grabbed what i’ve needed, put back what I wanted and didn’t need, and even asked someone to reach for the mango yogurt smoothies on the top shelf of the dairy case for me.
I’m off to try on my new Danskin leggings but I had to celebrate this moment with you. I’ve been doing the work of being the dysfunctional and needy one and looking the part, for a very long time. Time to change it up! Naturally to stop doing something you have to see that you’re doing it and then take action.
Who knew that I’d give myself an early Christmas present: some new good quality albeit cheap clothes, so that when I look in the mirror I see someone who cares enough about herself to be warm, clean, brave enough to wear an Advent-purple top? Next challenge? Will it be frosting my grey hair, using eyeliner again, really following through on that dreaded dental appointment? Stay tuned!