Every morning I drive passed this woman who must be in her early 20's from the looks of her hair and dress. She walks slowly with the aid of a cane, looking down at her feet intent on making the next step. She is always carrying a shopping bag of some kind, as though she needs a destination, a goal, for her daily physiotherapy. Maybe she goes a little farther each day, setting the bar a little higher.
Every day as I pass her the same questions run through my mind... Has she had surgery? Was it an accident? Was she told she would never walk again? How much support does she have at home? Is she ok? Will she be ok?
Today was different.
Looking down at her feet. Intent on the next step. Carrying only a handbag. Her cane hung on her wrist. It did not touch the ground. She was walking on her own.
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