The Last Thing I Expected to Miss

I haven’t felt grass between my toes in seven years and almost nine months.

When I pinched a nerve in my back and became my disabled, I didn’t think about small things. I was focused on the big picture.

I’ll never walk unassisted again. I’ve been mostly bedbound for ninety-three months. There are tons of things I can’t do

I have hobbies. I write, paint read, play games.

I get out. Im going to five concerts this year. I saw Heart in February. This summer and fall I’ll see Pat Benatar, Brandi Carlile, Billy Idol, and Indigo Girls. I’ll travel for the last three.

I’m going back to school remotely, fulfilling my dream of an MFA in creative writing.

I’m actually happier than I’ve ever been.

But I miss things.

Obviously I miss walking unassisted.

I miss hiking, getting in a swimming pool, going places by myself, photography.

But I realized a few days ago that I really miss grass between my toes.

I’ve always been allergic to shoes. My commitment to walking barefoot outdoors once got me stung – twice – by a scorpion.

As soon as I could walk I went to the mailbox sans shoes.

I have not been outside without shoes since I got hurt.

It’s not easy for me to get outside. I have to take the ramp in the garage.

If I go outside I’m getting in the car to go somewhere.

My walker is hard to maneuver on grass, so it would be difficult to get my bare feet on grass.

And honestly, after almost eight years, my feet are probably too tender to walk outside barefoot.

I don’t miss grass between my toes as much as I miss, say, kneeling with my camera to get the perfect shot. But I didn’t expect to miss it at all.