My father was diagnosed with polio at 3 months of age.
It attacked his leg.
Sometimes, I picture him as a little kid... in and out of hospitals, wearing braces, undergoing surgery to have his good leg stunted so the difference in growth wouldn't be so severe.
And I imagine him, not being able to run.
Not one time in his life.
And I feel guilty because I hate running, and how cool would it be to see him with the ability to run... even a few feet.
It's just a simple matter of perspective.
Some days my perspective is narrow and I forget how blessed I have been my entire life to have enjoyed a healthy body.
So, I remind myself to move just because of my father... after all, he can't move in some ways.
Yet, he was never a victim... from his perspective he didn't know what it meant to be a "kid who could run and jump" because he never had that ability.
So he did what he could do.
He played basketball, and he played softball, he hunted, and loved being in the outdoors with his friends.
He never let it stop him from anything he really wanted to do.
And I wonder... as able bodied people, how many times we make excuses rather than memories because we would rather sit idle.
With no perspective of what it is not to be able to do something as simple as pedal a bicycle, or be able to have no worries about which side that same bike would come to rest on: the side with my good leg or the side with my bad leg... resulting in no support and a crash just standing still.
Get some... because in your life I bet you have many things to celebrate.
Do that. Work with what you have been given. Be active and useful... for nature is not kind to useless stagnant creatures.
Remember: There is #norestfortheworthy
Choose to move. Choose growth. Choose daily.
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