Wheels

 Yesterday I set out on a mission to find a knee walker for my mother.  The way I was presented with that mission is a whole other tale, but the excitement I felt when I realized "mission accomplished" took a bittersweet turn almost immediately.

My mom is going to be unable to walk for 6 months, due to a condition called charcot.  She has a great attitude about it and of course we realize it could be worse.  But acquiring a knee scooter made me think about wheels and the stages of our lives that are marked by the objects to which out wheels are attached.  

First, when a person is a baby, there are wheels on the crib or bassinet.  These wheels are there not for the baby's convenience, but to make life easier for the caregiver.  These wheels are inconsequential to the baby until he or she becomes a grown up caregiver. 

The next set of wheels us humans encounter are found on a stroller.  Baby is getting out more, able to go on adventures outside of the home without being glued to mom or dad's hip. Baby is getting a small taste of freedom within the safe confines of the stroller unit.

Not long after that, the baby is introduced to a whole new experience:  the self-propelled walker, complete with bumpers and, you guessed it, a new set of wheels.  Baby's world just got a whole lot bigger.

Finally, the baby moves on to bigger and better riding toys with wheels, like the trusty Fisher-Price scooter, the Little Tykes car, or other riding toys, and eventually the baby is a toddler. 

That toddler is soon ready for a tricycle. Still self-propelled, and fairly safe.  But independence is taken to a whole new level: the toddler will learn to pedal and also discover that hard surfaces, such as sidewalks and roadways make for much easier locomotion.  Wow, this world is even bigger than the toddler realized.  

Of course, that toddler gets a little older and a lot more coordinated.  He or she quickly outgrows that tricycle.  Soon it is time to graduate up to a bicycle.  But not so fast:  balancing on 2 wheels is quite a huge step.  So, auxiliary wheels are often utilized to assist the young child in learning to balance and pedal at the same time.  Training wheels are the bridge from toddlerhood to childhood.  The missing link can be defined by these gadgets, really.  Bicycles will take the child faster and farther away from home than ever before.  Those training wheels are helpful in reaching this new, wonderful plateau of independence. 

The bicycle phase lasts longer than any other experience with wheels up to this point in the child's life.  For the parents, this can be a magical time.  The child is fairly independent and able to fulfill most of his or her basic needs as long as the materials with which to do it are readily available.  The child is, however, still interacting with, and learning from Mom & Dad.  Total independence is not yet in the picture, but it's sneaking up fast. 

Before Mom & Dad know what has hit them, that child is 16 years old and in need of some "wheels."  The big kahuna:  a car.  A real vehicle to drive on a real street or highway.  Mom & Dad's magical period is ending, and the teenager's is just beginning.  

(Teenager:  These are the best years of your life.  Enjoy them and don't do stupid stuff.  Cherish your freedom, respect your parents for providing you with it.  You will be surprised by how quickly this idyllic period ends and you will want it back.)

So, now we have the ultimate in independence.  A car or truck or motorcycle.  You can go anywhere you want with one of these.   As a matter of fact, these wheels will likely be crucial to working and raising a family.  

See what I mean, teenagers?  That freedom without strings didn't last long.  As you begin this next phase with wheels, you quickly find out that you are now dependent upon these wheels in order to maintain them and thus preserve your ability to get around and to provide for your own family.

Well, what goes up really does come down, and our level of independence is no exception.  As we age, we find out that we are not as invincible as we thought we were when we acquired that first set of "real wheels."  More likely than not, at some point we find that we need a little help getting around.  Time for a different kind of wheels.  

We will fight this stage with everything we have.  We will use almost anything else to avoid giving up our ability to go anywhere we wish.  However, at some point, we find that we need a cane or maybe a walker.  As our upper body strength fails, we may need a walker with wheels, or a knee scooter, or maybe even a wheelchair.  With the acknowledgement of the necessity of wheels to help us perform everyday tasks, we give up a degree of independence. This is an unavoidable sacrifice if we wish to be able to continue to live in our own homes and allow family members to help care for us as opposed to living in a long-term care facility.  The wheels keep us free a little longer. 

So this was the bittersweet realization that swept over me as I accomplished the mission of obtaining a knee walker for my mother.  In trying to help her maintain some independence, I'm also forcing her to acknowledge that she needs some help.  It's a strange paradox and an unavoidable landmark along life's journey.  

At any rate, I'm thankful for the wheels that we have to make life a little easier.