perspectives

yesterday, i saw a documentary that's hung with me even though the film itself wasn't that exceptional.

the movie was about a polish woman named kasia -- a former model -- stricken with ALS and unable to move or speak. (she died shortly after the film was completed.) yet she authored a novel, one letter at a time, using a "pointer" on her forehead to move her computer cursor from key to key.

at one point, in narrated voiceover, she expresses her frustration with the everyday complaints of the able-bodied, and says people should be grateful for being able to do all the mundane things she cannot: to stand up and stretch one's arms, feed oneself, take a shower or get dressed alone, walk, laugh, and so on. kasia was once a busy, vibrant professional; in the film, she is an immobile skeleton, completely dependent on her caregivers and at constant risk of suffocating on her own saliva.

and even though the concept of gratitude for good health and life's simple pleasures is nothing new, for some reason the concept of that kind of loss really hit me hard yesterday.

when i got home last night, it was on my mind each step of the way -- when i hung up my keys, when i washed my hands, when i made myself a snack, when i changed the channel on the TV, when i put a new roll of toilet paper on its roller, when i turned over in bed.

and i did feel grateful. very grateful.