Independence can mean a lot of different things. To some people it is the freedom to think and feel how they want. For others the ability to go wherever they want and for others it can be as simple as being able to tie their own shoe laces or make a cup of tea. Independence and equally dependence come in so many different guises and mean so many different things to different people that it is often a subject that we don’t really think about. That is until it forces itself into your consciousness and parades around shouting “look at me, look at me, bet you can’t catch me”, and the thing is often you can’t. It doesn’t matter how it rears its head, whether it’s in relation to a parent or grandparent or whether it affects you directly, once independence begins to slip away it is so hard to get it back.
Whenever my childhood is mentioned within my family there are three specific things that are always mentioned, firstly how I aged 3 changed my name to Mim which has stuck ever since. The second is that I never walked anywhere and had a set route around any regularly visited house, every few minutes I would stop whatever I was doing, jump up and run around the route before sitting back down and carrying on. Thirdly there was the fact that from the time I learn to do anything I wanted to do it by myself and never have any help. My independence was a source of great irritation, refusing to eat anything I hadn’t at least helped to make, refusing to be carried anywhere etc. But also fairly useful, the constant yell of “OUT” any time I was put anywhere near a pushchair meant it was generally available for my asthmatic brother and the fact that I never accepted help with homework meant there was more time for everyone else.
Independence to me always meant being able to do what I wanted when I wanted. Asking for help was practically unthinkable, regardless of the situation. Independence today is a slightly different reality. My current idea of being independent involves the ability to tie my own shoes prior to going out. It means that once I am outside it is possible to go into a shop and buy items that will fit in my backpack as carrying bags is a distant memory. It means that inside the shop I am able to either hook a basket over the handles of my crutch or use a trolley in order to actually select the limited number of items I am capable of taking home and that’s assuming it’s a good day. Independence on a bad day means having the energy to get out of bed, it means being capable of removing the top of the dry shampoo can (because frankly washing hair is for good days while actual showers are in the heady realms of great days!). On really bad days (or more commonly nights) independence is defined as the ability to a) open the childproof lid on the morphine bottle and b) use the oral syringe to get the correct dosage out.
Independence means a lot of different things to a lot of different people but the one common thing it seems to mean is freedom. At the end of the day yesterday I needed help tying my shoe but once I had accomplished this gargantuan lesson in humility I was able to go to the park with friends and feed the ducks. Last night I had to admit that chopping onions was too dangerous and that ring pulls on cans were beyond me but later I was able to help someone else. Today I had to say I can do something but I can’t walk there, at the end of the trip I was able to help two people and make a little girl laugh. So yes, it does seem that independence is all about freedom. Sometimes I don’t have the freedom to do what I want or need to do whenever I want, sometimes there are massive and humiliating inconveniences that force me to admit that maybe, in that way, I can’t actually be independent today; but in other ways there is still the freedom to chose to make the best of life.
My favourite photo is of a little boy I used to look after regularly. On that day I couldn’t walk very well so had my crutches with me. This 18 month old boy marched over to me, took one of my crutches and went for a walk using this crutch that towered above him. That day a wonderful little boy taught me that maybe it doesn’t matter if sometimes I need help doing things that I consider make me independent. Actually true independence is about the ability to choose to make the best of a situation. A lesson that is far too easy to forget; at the end of the day my friends don’t really care that on certain days I find it hard to open a can of sweetcorn because it’s not my ability to open cans that makes me a friend. So what if I can’t walk very well today because I can still make a child laugh, I can still give someone a hug, I can still listen and most of all I can still be here. Independence is freedom, it will always be frustrating when something that should be so easy seems like an insurmountable challenge, but I am free to adapt. I’ve done it before and I will carry on doing it because right now independence means not giving up, no matter what.
Whenever my childhood is mentioned within my family there are three specific things that are always mentioned, firstly how I aged 3 changed my name to Mim which has stuck ever since. The second is that I never walked anywhere and had a set route around any regularly visited house, every few minutes I would stop whatever I was doing, jump up and run around the route before sitting back down and carrying on. Thirdly there was the fact that from the time I learn to do anything I wanted to do it by myself and never have any help. My independence was a source of great irritation, refusing to eat anything I hadn’t at least helped to make, refusing to be carried anywhere etc. But also fairly useful, the constant yell of “OUT” any time I was put anywhere near a pushchair meant it was generally available for my asthmatic brother and the fact that I never accepted help with homework meant there was more time for everyone else.
Independence to me always meant being able to do what I wanted when I wanted. Asking for help was practically unthinkable, regardless of the situation. Independence today is a slightly different reality. My current idea of being independent involves the ability to tie my own shoes prior to going out. It means that once I am outside it is possible to go into a shop and buy items that will fit in my backpack as carrying bags is a distant memory. It means that inside the shop I am able to either hook a basket over the handles of my crutch or use a trolley in order to actually select the limited number of items I am capable of taking home and that’s assuming it’s a good day. Independence on a bad day means having the energy to get out of bed, it means being capable of removing the top of the dry shampoo can (because frankly washing hair is for good days while actual showers are in the heady realms of great days!). On really bad days (or more commonly nights) independence is defined as the ability to a) open the childproof lid on the morphine bottle and b) use the oral syringe to get the correct dosage out.
Independence means a lot of different things to a lot of different people but the one common thing it seems to mean is freedom. At the end of the day yesterday I needed help tying my shoe but once I had accomplished this gargantuan lesson in humility I was able to go to the park with friends and feed the ducks. Last night I had to admit that chopping onions was too dangerous and that ring pulls on cans were beyond me but later I was able to help someone else. Today I had to say I can do something but I can’t walk there, at the end of the trip I was able to help two people and make a little girl laugh. So yes, it does seem that independence is all about freedom. Sometimes I don’t have the freedom to do what I want or need to do whenever I want, sometimes there are massive and humiliating inconveniences that force me to admit that maybe, in that way, I can’t actually be independent today; but in other ways there is still the freedom to chose to make the best of life.
My favourite photo is of a little boy I used to look after regularly. On that day I couldn’t walk very well so had my crutches with me. This 18 month old boy marched over to me, took one of my crutches and went for a walk using this crutch that towered above him. That day a wonderful little boy taught me that maybe it doesn’t matter if sometimes I need help doing things that I consider make me independent. Actually true independence is about the ability to choose to make the best of a situation. A lesson that is far too easy to forget; at the end of the day my friends don’t really care that on certain days I find it hard to open a can of sweetcorn because it’s not my ability to open cans that makes me a friend. So what if I can’t walk very well today because I can still make a child laugh, I can still give someone a hug, I can still listen and most of all I can still be here. Independence is freedom, it will always be frustrating when something that should be so easy seems like an insurmountable challenge, but I am free to adapt. I’ve done it before and I will carry on doing it because right now independence means not giving up, no matter what.
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