I
can no longer walk. My grandchildren have known me only in my Amigo
scooter. When the grandkids were very young, each one of them, in their
own time and in their own way, asked me why I couldn't walk. I did my
best to explain to them about how MS results in less function. Not easy
to explain to children. Not easy for children to understand.
Taylor,
barely more than a toddler herself, was the first to offer to teach me
to walk. She was so sure she could teach me, because it really isn't
too difficult. She learned to walk, so surely I could learn, too, if
only I would try. She wasn't one to give up, and we went through that
scenario several times.
Michael was the next to offer. He added
a couple of extras to the offer. First, he wanted me to lean on him for
my first few steps, and don't worry -- he would not let go. After I
declined that offer, he pulled out one of my canes -- unused for years
-- and tried to explain to me that the cane would keep me from falling.
The
others offered, too, one by one, talking very quietly, just between the
two of us. Each was confident I could be taught, and just as confident
he or she was the one who could teach me. No, kids, it's not that I
haven't learned how to walk, there was a time when I did walk and even
dance. But my legs aren't able to hold me up any more no matter how
hard or how many times I try. What I learned, kids, is how very sweet
and caring you each can be.
A few 
years later Taylor surprised
me again. When I am at home I am usually barefoot. Shoes are awkward
and the temperature inside the house is comfortable, so it doesn't
bother me. Taylor, however, worried my feet would be cold. One
Christmas she used her money to buy me some red socks trimmed with
fluffy faux fur to keep my feet warm.
I will always remember your loving concern and kindnesses. I am touched and I thank you very much.
