Celia Nunnelly posted her poem “I Wish I had a Wheelchair” on Friends International, an online support group we both belong to. With playful humor her words hit the heart of a feeling all of us with disabling chronic illness can relate to.
I am honored that she gave me permission to post it.
(The paragraph below is Celia’s introduction to “I Wish I Had a Wheelchair”.)
This poem was inspired by a story in the paper about a local quilt show. The paper included some absolutely beautiful pictures. Because I cannot walk, stand or sit up for very long at a time, I cannot go to such events.And, though I do own a wheelchair, it is a used chair that is not really fitted to me and is quite uncomfortable so I only use it for emergency expeditions.But I got to thinking of the things I could do if I could afford to buy the perfect wheelchair, one made just for me.
Celia Nunnelly posted her poem “I Wish I had a Wheelchair” on Friends International, an online support group we both belong to. With playful humor her words hit the heart of a feeling all of us with disabling chronic illness can relate to.
I am honored that she gave me permission to post it.
(The paragraph below is Celia’s introduction to “I Wish I Had a Wheelchair”.)
This poem was inspired by a story in the paper about a local quilt show. The paper included some absolutely beautiful pictures. Because I cannot walk, stand or sit up for very long at a time, I cannot go to such events. And, though I do own a wheelchair, it is a used chair that is not really fitted to me and is quite uncomfortable so I only use it for emergency expeditions. But I got to thinking of the things I could do if I could afford to buy the perfect wheelchair, one made just for me.
I wish I had a wheel chair
I wish I had a wheel chair
built just for me
with nice big rubber wheels
and the perfect footrest
Iʼd go to the quilt show
and ooh and ahh
over every flower or star
stitched by loving hands
Iʼd go fishing
at the county lake
drown a few worms
catch a big olʼ catfish
Iʼd go to the grocery store
and terrorize the aisles
like a naughty child
whose mommy isnʼt watching
Iʼd drive it under the influence
of pharmaceuticals
that recommend using caution
when operating machinery
(perhaps I shouldnʼt mention that)
when I came home again
I would be in big trouble
I would need a hoist
to get back into bed again
and the next day
I would hurt so much
that I would hardly
raise my head from the pillow
but behind my eyelids
I would see quilts and catfish
and startled shoppers
and I would smile.
Celia H. Nunnelley
June 18, 2008