Saturday, November 18, started early enough. I really hadn’t gotten any sleep to speak of since I’d spent the entire night packing the last of my things, and still had not finished. In some ways, this move was like the move to DC — I’d found a place, sight unseen, and had started packing almost as soon as I’d gotten the job offer. In other, more important ways, it was quite different. It was the first time that I had basically no help in packing, hence the last minute scramble. It was also the first time that I was moving flat broke, as I hadn’t worked in a while, and was living off of my savings. Recent identity theft had plundered almost my entire savings, forcing me to dip into my retirement fund, nearly depleting it. The tribulation I’d gone through trying to get that money left a bad taste in my mouth, and a fervent prayer that my next retirement plan did not come from a certain company catering to teachers.
Another difference was the stress level associated with this move. For a long time, things were up in the air — where would I get some cash? How would I get my stuff up to Rochester? Indeed, how would I, personally, get there? In desperation, I’d called several agencies in Washington, DC, and in Rochester, and learned what it’s like to live between the cracks. No one in the District would help me since I was moving away, and no one in Rochester would help, since I had not yet arrived. Eventually, I decided that it would be of no use wasting precious energy stressing over things. I have always been blessed with a peculiar sort of luck — or looking after by the Creator — things always had a way of working themselves out for the good when it came to me, and fortunately, this time was no different. My friend, Gwen offered to drive me to Rochester, and to pack as much of my things as she could into her small pickup truck. She also volunteered to help with the last of the packing. Great! the last pieces were falling into place.
By mid-morning, Gwen arrived with breakfast, and we finished packing, and loaded what we could on to the truck. I was grieved that I would not be able to take my TV, or DVD player or any books or tapes or other small comforts, such as my hand made stuffed animals, but there was room only for the necesities — clothing, my computer (thank goodness!), some bedding, my dresser, my toiletries, and whatever would fit in my knapsacks. We also took my microwave, and my guitars. The things that were left would be stored at my neighbor, Shonda’s apartment, and at Gwen’s place. Shonda came to help out, and to see us off. I called my mum, my sister, and a couple of friends to let them know that I was finally on my way.
Everything started out all right, but as we pulled on to the highway, one of the blue bins of clothing fell off of the truck. Gwen stopped, and gathered everything up, and we continued on our way. The ride was pleasant, and we learned much about each other. Whenever we stopped for gas, Gwen would check to see if everything was ok with my things.
At 10:00 pm, we finally arrived in Rochester. There was a chill in the air, but it wasn’t really cold. I was surprised, as I had heard about the legendary cold and snow that usually afflicts Rochester at this time of year. Gwen wanted to stop by my apartment to at least see what the area looked like before we went to the hotel. Arrangements had been made by Bruce, our Executive Director, for me to stay in a hotel from Saturday until Tuesday, when I would move into my apartment. We drove around the downtown area until we found my place, but we couldn’t see much in the dark. Gwen stopped to do a last check on the luggage. It was then that we found out the worst – my wheelchair was missing! I don’t know when it fell off but I remember that a couple of hours before, I’d heard a sound like a small rock hitting the truck. I remember discussing it with Gwen, but we both came to the conclusion that the sound was perhaps due to a rock, or something. In hindsight, that may well have been when the bungee cord snapped. We would later discover that the microwave oven was gone, as well.
Needless to say, Gwen felt terrible. Oddly, I was calm about the matter. My feeling was that Gwen had gotten me here safe, and in one piece, and that really was all that mattered. Looking back, I think that the reason that I was so calm was that I felt that once again, things would work out fine, as they always seem to, for me.
We made it to the hotel, checked in, and unpacked all of the smaller items. Then, Gwen went to get us something to eat. After about an hour, she returned with fruit, cereal, frozen dinners, milk, and juice. We ate, then, planned for tomorrow. Gwen had spotted an ambulance station, and wanted to stop by in the morning to see if they knew of any medical supply stores where a wheelchair could be had. We then got ready for bed, since Gwen wanted to make an early start. I curled up in bed with some comfort and consolation that I had managed to stow all of my CD’s and CD player into the knapsack that I usually kept on the back of my wheelchair, and had had the presence of mind to place it inside of the truck, at my feet. Thank goodness, that knapsack had not been lost with the wheelchair, or perhaps, I would have been inconsolable, as the music was one of a couple of small treasures that I had managed to bring with me.
Sunday dawned cold and snowy. I marveled at the weather change that had taken place during the night. Gwen was gone to get gas, and to find the ambulance place. I took a shower and dressed, and by the time I had finished, Gwen was back — with a wheelchair! Granted, it was a hospital johnny, a type of manual wheelchair used in hospitals and nursing homes, but it was far better than nothing. I asked her how she’d come by it. Gwen, who is a very spiritual, faith-filled woman, explained that she had prayed all morning to find a wheelchair, and when she stopped for gas, she noticed that the man at the gas pump next to her had on a clerical collar. She waited until the man had paid for his gas, and when he returned to his car, she stopped him, and explained what happened. After hearing her story, the man, who was a pastor at a nearby church, told Gwen that he indeed had a wheelchair that she could have, and invited her to follow him to his church, where he got the wheelchair, and loaded it into the truck. I was truely amazed by this, and very thankful!
We then got the rest of my things into the room, then, called Chris, my boss, to let him know that we had arrived safely. Of course, we told him the story about the wheelchair. Afterwards, we ate breakfast, then, Gwen prepared to leave so that she could make it back to DC at a decent hour in order to clear out a couple of things and turn in the keys. Her plan was to come back up on Tuesday with the rest of my things.
I saw Gwen off, thanking her many times for bringing me up. She still felt bad about losing the wheelchair and microwave, but I told her not to worry; what mattered was that we both were safe. As she left, she gave me some money to get me through the next few days. Since I was flat broke, you can imagine how grateful I was!
I spent the rest of the day relaxing and getting used to the idea that I was in Rochester. If there was any city with an ADAPT chapter that I wanted to be a part of, it was Rochester, and now, I was here! I kept pinching myself to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming. Finally, I went to bed. Tomorrow would be my first day of work — and the first day of my new life.