He’s only 4. He’s brilliant and capable. He can drive it himself.
Today when he woke up, he knew it was the day. He’s been eagerly awaiting this day since he first got measured, first knew he was getting one.
It was a “milestone” I had put off. My son needing a power wheelchair felt like the the thing that cemented in our reality, that they, we, are sick. That this isn’t nothing, and that it will only get worse. My 2 year old isn’t far from this same “milestone”.
The only thing he feels is excitement. He has no idea why it would be anything other than great. This is just our life, another very normal reality for them.
I don’t know how to put into words how I feel. My husband came from work to be there, a milestone first as a family.
It felt like a big deal because it is a big deal. The obvious outward sign that things are progressing.
It’s scary, it’s heartbreaking, and it’s a lonely feeling. Not something most people can easily relate to.
But he is excited. So we will be excited with him.
