My wheelchair - a thing of beauty

My kitchen ceiling is missing - partially. Due to leaks from the plumbing upstairs, the ceiling was stained and a contractor came to replace it. However, while he was doing the work he discovered more leaks. So he couldn't put the ceiling back up.
I never realized how much was hidden under that ceiling - wooden beams, pipes, insulation - until I lived with the innards of the house exposed for several days.

At first I thought it was really ugly. Some friends came over and pointed at the exposed plumbing and beams asking "When is that going to be fixed?" The first few days I was almost apologetic, saying it would be fixed soon. But in the last few days, I've begun to say to people that it reminds me of living in a rustic cabin in the woods - a cabin you just never quite finished working on. Barebones.

And I realize that it's never going to be "fixed" because the pipes and beams are not going away - they're just covered by the ceiling. Whether they're aesthetically pleasing to look at or not, they need to be there.

I realized that this is the same process I went through while adjusting to using a wheelchair. At first I thought all wheelchairs were ugly. I was very unhappy and scared about having to use a wheelchair and being "stuck" in one. Then I found freedom through the mobility it offered and my wheelchair started looking pretty good to me. I started adding accessories to it to make it even more useful - and personalized it. The day I was eager to add a net underneath it because all of my other female wheelchair friends had one was the day I realized that was no different than wanting a pocketbook someone else had that I admired! And I realized that my initial feelings toward my wheelchair had changed.

My wheelchair had become a thing of beauty.