We all have things we love and despise when it comes to taking pictures or seeing them of ourselves. Whether it be we take off our glasses or quickly part our hair a certain way. Whatever it is; we all have our quirks when it comes to pictures. Well, I have a confession. My wheelchair used to be like glasses!
As weird as this may sound coming from a person who uses a wheelchair; my quirk about pictures was that I despised pictures of myself in my wheelchair. Okay, I said it. Yup, I KNOW IT’S WEIRD. I have to defend myself a little. Up until 5 years ago I was a part-time wheelchair user, I didn’t use a chair around the house and I could walk in to a convenient store. I won’t bore you with the details as to why I now use a wheelchair full-time other than we get older our bodies change. Back to the picture quirks, when I think about it maybe I didn’t like pictures in my wheelchair because I only used it some of the time and I didn’t want the chair to define me? I don’t know?? For the last few weeks I’ve noticed that I don’t have that quirk anymore. It first sort of hit me when I asked Rachel what she thought about me staying in my wheelchair for our professional pictures this year. But, then it really hit me this past weekend when we were taking a picture off a wall to hang something new. I was going around the house looking at the pictures in our home that have been taken post-Jacob and I noticed they all have my wheelchair prominently visible!
I can only contribute this, for lack of better words, personal growth to Rachel and Jacob. Anyone, who has a child, your perspectives on things change but I didn’t realize your self-portrait changes as well. I guess overtime they have taught me I’m just Daddy wheelchair or not I’m still Daddy. I’ll share a little story. The other day, I went to pick him up at school. I was a little late so they were on the playground. He saw me or heard my chair crunching the leaves coming up to the fence. He runs over “DADDY! DADDY!” His friend ran up to the fence behind him. Jacob says to his friend, “That’s my Daddy.”