The Memoir Of Ms. Butterfly

Damn, I am 38 years old, and I am not usually the one that handles it that this damn wheelchair or the fact that you had to give up your own life to take care of me because my damn disability won’t allow me to be as independent as I would love to be.

Yes, I am indeed in a wheelchair for the rest of my life, and honestly, I am good with that because that’s the hand god dealt us. She gave up her life so I could have a chance at having my own life.

A list of things that she does for me

1.she gets me out of bed every day

2. she has to wash my ass because I can’t do it myself.
3. She has dirty her own hands wipe my ass with the same hands that prepare my food every day.
4. She is the one that waits up when I get home late from being out all night.
5. It doesn’t matter what time of the night I need to be changed; she will drag herself out of bed because she has always said I’m her crossed. Her well-known cross carries with me until she is no longer her but with her heavenly to be home to be with our father.

I’m grateful for everything that she has done or given up on me. Although, sometimes, it might not seem that way because the things that have come out of my mouth are genuinely disrespectful.

I know there are better ways of communication, but I have not learned those skills yet.

I also understand that she hates when people hurt or try to hurt me, but I am grown.

She needs to start looking at me as a woman and not as a helpless little girl who will always need to help for the rest of her life.

Yes, it corrects that I am going to need someone to care for me.

We made it to 38 despite the disability, which is an accomplishment in itself. We made liars out of those doctors when they would say no, and God said yes; that should be an important reason she should be honored to see me as a woman because not one of us should be here to tell the story. Thirty-eight years later, and we still have more stories to tell. My wheelchair has never stopped me from having a personal life, so why should I have the power to prevent signs on my life when I have never allowed my chair to speak for me?

My chair has never been a stop sign, so I may have a relationship with whoever I choose to have in my life. However, I have never asked anyone to like who I was dating or pretend just for me.

All I have ever asked for is respect for who I am, and who I am is a woman that has not been perfect and has been caught in many lies because of my own doing. This chair does not make me less than any woman who is walking on two good legs. The chair is never going to go. Neither is the fact that I am no longer a little girl but a grown woman.
Ms. Butterfly Genesis