I’m posting this update later than normal, and I’ll ask for your forgiveness, a mercy if you like, as I give all the details of my full and adventurous previous ten days. If you’re not interested in the intricacies of my celebrations and travels, I’ll write a “too long; didn’t read” down at the bottom.
I posted last just before Christmas Eve, and I was fortunate to celebrate that prominent holiday with my English neighbors who invited me over for the evening meal and good conversation. Jan walked with me across the street so I could move my legs and leave the wheelchair behind. I’m always grateful for the friends who are patient enough with me to let me take the extra few minutes to have a chance to walk somewhere. Christmas Day similarly celebrated my strengths as I was picked up by my friend Mary Lou and headed over to my American adopted family’s house to hang out filter free for several hours. I’d opened my presents from my family in the morning and immediately put on my Bob’s Burgers t-shirt that my mom sent, knowing these particular friends would appreciate the humor. I slept in the next day and read a lot through the afternoon before Gundi picked me up to take me to her house for the traditional German second Christmas meat fondue with her family. I’m still incredibly humbled that this family has also adopted me and made sure I’m included in this annual tradition. I also feel like it’s my annual leveling up in German as this year I was able to have almost a full conversation in German about American politics. I’m still woefully deficient for living in this country for almost five years, but my German friends are incredibly patient with me.
After my thoroughly international Christmas celebrations, my Canadian friend and I hopped on a train to make our way to Wittenberg for a day and a half. This is my third big train trip, and I still love this form of travel in a wheelchair above flying or driving. I’ve got so much more flexibility in my movements, and the nice people help me on and off the trains with their super handy lifts, sometimes leaving me up high for a ride down the platform to the connecting train. Crystal and I made it to Wittenberg in the late afternoon and snapped a selfie in the still decorated street as we looked for a place to get some food. The next morning we headed to Luther’s house for my ultimate nerd experience as I read all the history of the reformation from the sassy reformer’s very home converted into a museum of his life. Crystal convinced me to get out of my wheelchair and take the single step into part of the exhibit not provided with a ramp to see even more of the cool articles and artifacts. As usual, I was so glad we were able to maneuver me through more of the rooms than were easy to access with the wheelchair. I missed out on a non-accessible 500 anniversary display the city was holding, but the little hurdles like the single wooden step were so easy to overcome with just a little help.
I needed more than a little help navigating around the next city as we discovered loads of widely spaced cobblestone covering the ancient streets of Dresden. I’m fortunate to have friends willing to push me when my body so easily exhausts itself, and Crystal was also sympathetic to the jostling over cobblestones draining my energy despite me being pushed through most of the streets. We met up with some friends of Crystal and they gave us the local highlights and helped me find my way into the back entrance of the relatively recently rebuilt Frauenkirche so I could be lifted up and wheeled in between speakers and concert equipment as they prepared for a New Year’s celebration in the church.
Since this is the long version, I’m going to detour here to talk about the emotions of accessibility in ancient places. Yeah, I totally get that the church was built before wheelchairs were a thing, but just think about how it feels to be pushed around to a back entrance (along the super rough cobblestone because apparently it would ruin the aesthetic to have a smooth paved path to the handicap entrance) which is being used as a loading dock and to be blended in with the materials being carted into the church rather than distinctly recognized as an autonomous human. Now, to be clear, all the guys doing heavy lifting were polite and gracious and fully accommodating. It’s just the principle of being relegated to the service entrance that’s sometimes wearing. In so many places, I’m grateful they’ve accommodated spaces and made adjustments to make it possible for me to enter at all. The castle church in Wittenberg had a broken lift to the regular handicap entrance, so they unlocked a special side door for me to still have access. I just have to acknowledge the gratitude for any access at all in conjunction with the recognition that it’s occasionally a lower quality experience.
I really did enjoy the stop in Dresden, though, and Crystal’s friends were a lot of fun to spend time with. Saturday morning we spent time chatting in Starbucks before Crystal and I caught our next train to the final city of the trip – Berlin. I was pretty wiped energy wise from Friday’s cobblestone sightseeing, and I didn’t have as much energy as I would have liked once we finally made it to our hotel in the southeast corner of Berlin. Since it was already dark, not great weather, and no good food options nearby, Crystal and I opted for a makeshift meal in the hotel before our adventure in the morning. We got up in time to take the subway into the heart of the city and made our way to the Dome for the Sunday morning service. It was another service elevator around the back situation, but I was able to get around the sanctuary and loved listening to the German liturgy and enjoying the Protestant attempt at Catholic decor. (Germans really love their reformers, by the way. I expected it in Wittenberg, but there was also a huge statue of Luther in front of the church in Dresden, and the Berliner Dome has their two famous reformers staring down at parishioners in the front of the ornate church flanked by the two famous Swiss ones on the sides.)
After the service, we had lunch with another one of Crystal’s friends before taking her recommendation to visit the National History Museum after we discovered the DDR had an hour long wait in the rain before entry (plus a perilous looking stone ramp that was wet too). I was absolutely delighted with the choice though, and I happily spent over an hour in the Reformation section alone, but I could easily have gone back to that exhibit every day for a week and found more interesting things about German history. I’d exhausted myself after about four hours, and Crystal generously let me take my time and then pushed me most of the way back through the cold rain. Fortunately, we each found suitable food in stores open in the early evening of New Year’s Eve before we holed up in our hotel to watch the fireworks from our window.
We’d hoped to visit the Jewish Memorial on the way to the train station, but when we came up from the subway stop at the Brandenburg Tor, we discovered the huge celebration from New Year’s was still blocking the road and would have been a huge hassle to navigate around in the wheelchair. Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough time to plan a new route and make it to the train station in time, so we just took our time bumping me along the rough cobblestone to see the Parliament building and navigate to the train station. Our route crossed right over where the Berlin Wall stood just a couple decades ago, and I remembered to get a final picture in Berlin before we left. It was a short trip, but I was delighted with everything I was able to do. I do recognize the significant limitations I had navigating over cobblestone sections and sapping my energy quickly, not to mention the long term antibiotic I’m on usually starts my day with two hours of nausea whether or not I’ve eaten enough. Some days are better than others, but the last six were rough as I swayed on trains and subways and jostled over cobblestones to visit the antiquities. I’d love a life where I didn’t have those kinds of complications, but I still had a magnificent trip with amazing opportunities. I could write a whole essay on being a paralyzed person learning to walk again first seeing a church with weathered 18th century sandstone that survived the WWII bombing slotted in where possible in the reconstruction during my lifetime. That church was devastated, but someone saw potential for rebirth and renewal. I was told I’d never walk again, but I’m not letting that stop me from living an amazing life each day.
Again, there’s still this balance between the struggles and successes I’m finding post paralysis. The train ride back to Kandern was an excellent example. On the first leg from Berlin to Erfurt, an old man was sitting in my reserved disabled seat. When Crystal asked him to move to another disabled seat, he adamantly refused. When I came into the cabin, he even refused to move his bag out of my way to let me stretch my feet out on Crystal’s reserved seat. In each leg, we’re both reserved a seat, and I use mine to sit in while stretching my legs out onto my wheelchair to help with the stiffness and potential blood clots. I’d been counting on this train trip to be the relaxing portion of the day where I could stretch my legs after the uncomfortable nausea and cobblestone physical reality of my morning (remember how I have to balance the adventurous experiences with physical struggles). Instead, however, for this leg, I was parked the spot for my wheelchair, unable to move myself at all.
For a few centuries now, some monastics have been practicing a meditative prayer with only twelve powerful words. As I struggled with the angry German man refusing to move from my disabled seat while to him I was clearly fine in my wheelchair, I recited the prayer silently. My lips moved with the words, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Twenty minutes into the hour and a half train ride, my legs still ached and longed to stretch out, lifted up on my chair like I’d planned. However, my heart softened a little bit towards this cranky old man. Jesus has been merciful to me, and I hope I never come across as difficult and unyielding as this poor man. What awful things have embittered him towards other disabilities? He insisted he was also disabled, and I don’t doubt him, but his response to me put me at risk he couldn’t guess about. I can’t see everyone else’s problems, so I hope this experience can remind me to be empathetic to the unseen needs of others. My needs are equal, and I never want to trump another genuine need. I’ll be honest, this was a hard conclusion to reach, and the attitude is more a “fake it til you are it” situation. I know in my head that’s the right response, but my heart is slow in coming around.
I was near tears at the stiffness and discomfort an hour in, but the cabin shuffled around for me as two other passengers could see the concern I was poorly masking, and I was able to move to a different disabled spot, and Crystal graciously massaged my legs for several minutes to help with the stiffness and blood circulation. Fortunately, the next two legs were flawless, and our reserved seats were undisputed, and we were picked up right when our train arrived in Freiburg to be driven all the way back to Kandern. (Those familiar with German trains might wonder why we stopped so far from home, but that’s another hurdle with the wheelchair – I can only get off the train at stations with that fancy lift and an employee to operate it.)
I’ve been shown incredible mercy by a loving God who softens my heart towards others. I’ve still got a long way to go to be better loving, but this past week was a beautiful opportunity to celebrate the friendships that I’ve graciously been given and to enjoy the beauty and history in my host country. I also found unexpected ways to let the Lord sand down some hardness in my heart and hopefully learn to love others better.
tl;drI have amazing community in Kandern with whom I celebrated Christmas, and I’m fortunate enough to be able to still adventure despite paralysis and ongoing complications that require nauseating medications. I’m even learning to be a better human and to look for ways to be less of a jerk face.
