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Letter From A Disabled Moter
Letter From a mother
The letter which never reached her....
My Dear Melissa,
Each time I see you Melissa my heart leaps, my lip quivers. The moment I see you walking from your kids chair to the near by garden I cannot restrain my tears. As I see you taking each uncertain step with Great Spirit I fail to control my sensation. Melissa, as I notice you taking the initial steps and then see you walking all the way through the garden, staircase and passing through all the odds with your little unbalanced feet I feel so proud to be your mother. Your anxiousness to run, your on foot sight, your trembling first few steps reminds me of the days when I used to run..... Used to stand on my own feet; had the desire to touch the sky.......
It is now raining Melissa!!! The misting rain has spun a halo around the lonely street light .... So soft yet so beautiful!!!! The mute murmur of the rain is echoing at the windowpane.... I see you there gazing at the soft downpour and trying to dance in accord with the yielding tip tap sound of the rain..... Melissa you remind me my childhood with every step you take. ‘’ With every move you make ‘’ you strike a chord to awake me from my fancy forlorn to the ruthless reality of my two lifeless legs. Life is a pain to me Melissa of tying those heavy metal braces from hip to ankle and then those uncouth crutches which aids me to stand up.
It is your mother Melissa an accurately paraplegic who needs to tie up those braces to take even few unbalanced steps. It is me my child, unfortunate woman who has seen hundred times that kids hiding from her out of fear or just mocking at the back of her or even at times looking intently with awe at her for wearing those braces and crutching to them. But I am sure you won’t be surprised to see your mother, securing the heavy metal support to stand up or you won’t hate her to see crutching instead of walking, and then getting drained out of the dreary actions....... Because to you my dear child it would be such a regular state of affair to see somebody struggling to take those few steps. You will grow up with my disability my daughter and the time when you will understand that your mother is hopelessly paraplegic then you are already a grown up kid and I am sure by that time there would exist the ceaseless bond of love between us!!!!
I have designed to play a strange game with you!! I will sit at your bed extricating my metal braces and hiding my crutches. My two lifeless legs will be in front of the bed. I will say in a strange voice ..... ‘’Melissa can’t twist my leg'’ and hearing that you will try and succeed in twisting my leg one above the other!! You will burst into glee to see me struggling with my unresponsive and motionless legs to bring them back to the places. Again I will say ‘’Melissa can never hide her mother’s braces!!'’ which will prompt you to hide my metal braces and I will again do a great effort to reach my crutches. These are the small playoffs we will play Melissa Just you and me which will lure you to understand my disability and then entice you to help your dejected paraplegic mother.
I have hated the peoples who ever have tried to help me in regard to my impairedness but to you I can stoop down to any extent. I can accept any help from you my little angel, where the world is truly between two of us the disabled mother and her normal child.
I have a dream Melissa ......I day dream; and in my reverie you come and say ‘mother how you have afford to go all through these odds of raring up your child so carefully? Loving her so delicately? And above all bearing her at your womb despite the fact that you yourself need support to even stand up? It is with your sheer balance mamma you have crossed all the huddles!! You are a genius mother!! You are my Olympic mother!! ‘’