It’s not that he didn’t ever use hand rails. But I best remember the times he didn’t. Oh man, I’d be nervous trying to position myself just so...just in case I needed to help brace him for a fall. Joe didn’t care though...he was going to go where he was going to go ...regardless of how I positioned myself. And he did. Countless times, much to my chagrin.
Moebius syndrome is a rare neurological condition that accompanied Joe since birth. His case affected more than his facial muscles and nerves. Joe’s feet were also affected...resulting in what appeared to onlookers as a difficulty to safely stay upright. But for the life of me...I can’t say it hindered him significantly. Well, I mean, it had to hinder him though, right? Right??
However, his work history is robust. He was married to his bride for 56 years. They produced the most beautiful daughter imaginable. He was living out his retirement years active in his church. I mean...am I missing what was missing?? Because I’m not really coming up with anything. In a very real sense, he had it all. A man of abundant fruit.
I wonder if he kinda felt free racing in front of protective arms trying to prevent potential falls. It must have been a lifelong conundrum. I was fairly late to the scene, only within the last several years, so of course I felt a sense of protective urgency whenever I was around him. But I now wonder how much Joe really needed it. Oh, sure...I’ve seen him fall. I can’t remember how many times. Most times he got up quickly. No fuss. Other times he needed help. Again..no fuss from him. He likely tired of any fuss anyone offered. Rolled right off him, best I can tell. And for the time I knew him, I never saw him with a handicapped license plate.
I remember asking Doris how she and Joe met. She paused, while the twinkle in her eye glimmered a bit. She said...”it was in school. He was called Joe the Trouble Maker”. At first I couldn’t believe her. But that was one of the first times I met with them...and I didn’t know any better. After chasing after him trying to protect him a few times, I found Doris’ story much easier to believe.
You see, in Joe’s world...handrails weren’t for him...they were for me, and others, so we would somehow feel better, I guess. But honestly, I think he lived his life just fine without them. He certainly won’t need handrails in the next life. And I’m guessing he probably won’t need wings either.
I love you Joe, and I miss you already.
