First Loss, by David Gayes
Written by admin2 on December 8th, 2007Filed under: Themes, Cerebral Ballsy, Wheelchairman of the Board
First Loss
by David Gayes
Each summer when I was little, my family would rent a cabin in Wisconsin. For me, a highlight of the vacation would be an afternoon of horseback riding. My dad and I would ride double on the horse. I would sit in front of him, leaning on him for support. My dad would hold me tight and keep me stable. I loved it! My horse was always a calm and friendly one. I would pet the soft, smooth fur and talk to my horse by name. I felt safe, while experiencing the up-and-down rhythmical movement of the horse. I especially enjoyed the thrill of the horse galloping. We’d ride a trail that went through the woods, feeling the cool breeze, listening to the chatter of the birds, and smelling the fragrant flowers and pine forest. The woods felt majestic and peaceful, and I felt contented exhilaration on that one hour trail ride.
One summer, when I was about eight years old, I was totally caught off guard when my dad told me he could not safely ride double with me anymore. I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it. Why couldn’t I do something that the rest of my family could do? Would I be able to go horseback riding when I got older? How could it be that my strong dad could not keep me safe on a horse? What else wouldn’t I be able to do? I felt really sad about the loss of horseback riding on summer vacations.
I was at a turning point in my life. For the first time, I realized that my cerebral palsy presented me with some limitations. You might wonder how I made it to eight years old without recognizing this point. I suppose part of the reason had to do with cognitive development. But, I think a large part had to do with my parents’ commitment to do activities that the whole family could do. Also, my same age sisters didn’t know any differently either.
There were other times as a child, when I saw able-bodied children doing things I wished that I could do. I had watched kids go off to baseball practice and would have loved to have joined them. Bike riding and rollerblading also looked like a lot of fun.
Although missing out on some activities made me feel down at times, I can’t say that as a child I ever wallowed in sadness. There was just too much life to be lived. There were so many fun things that I did do, like singing in a choir, participating in a theater summer camp, and swimming with an inner tube and lifejacket (I could play a mean game of freeze tag in the freedom of the water). My parents altered a Baby Jogger racing stroller so that we could go on hikes in the woods. I continued to enjoy the cool breeze, the chatter of the birds, and the fragrant smells of the forest.
David Gayes recently took a year away from college to pursue an interview project he called Growing up with a disability. In these interviews, David recorded the stories of people living with disabilities—personal stories, real stories. He’s a natural interviewer, and his writing is at once funny and witty and poignant and lyrical.
He’s currently back at college, studying hard and at a hectic pace, but look out for his name in a few years, because our money’s on him taking the world of journalism/media by storm. [Note: although he won’t be conducting too many new interviews for awhile, David will still be updating his blog whenever he can.]
In David’s own words: “I like sports, music, travel, and conversation. And, I have cerebral palsy. I believe society often underestimates the complexity of living with a disability—the joys, the challenges, the ordinary, and the extraordinary.”
